And the Echoes Travel: KotOR Saga, Part IV
by Windwalker57
Summary: The only Jedi to return from the Mandalorian Wars was exiled for following Revan. Ten years later, Meetra Surik returns to find the Republic near collapse and the Jedi have disappeared... but the Sith have not. Hunted by powerful foes, she must gather what allies she can and face the Sith before they destroy the Republic once and for all. AU. Sequel to "Light in the Shadow."
1. Peragus, part one

**Disclaimer: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords was created by Lucasarts and Obsidian Entertainment**

* * *

 _Awaken._

Meetra Surik's body jerked. Her eyes opened a crack; the light hurt too much and she shut them again. Her arms and legs felt sluggish, and she couldn't focus. She heard a muffled beeping, and the world lurched. She moved her arms and legs, but she couldn't feel anything. Everything tilted, and she was lying on a firm surface, plasteel maybe. She picked up the too-sweet, vegetal odor of kolto. Meetra recognized her mental fog as the aftereffects of a sedative. She opened her eyes without pain this time, and took a look around. She was in the recovery ward of a starship or space station medical facility. It wasn't the _Harbinger_ 's med bay. _How did I get here? More important, where is here?_ She looked around the room. There were four men in other kolto tubes, but they appeared to be dead. _Not a good sign._

She found a mirror. Meetra was plainly pretty, or pretty plain, she could never decide. The only standout feature of her face was a pair of bright blue eyes. Her brown hair was cut to frame her face, coming down to her jawline in front; in back, it hung to just below her shoulder blades. Meetra looked at herself: Slightly above average height, forty-six years old, body toned by regular exercise. She was wearing only a one-piece spacer's undergarment. It fit well and showed off her athletic figure to advantage, but she'd rather not be in an unfamiliar place in skivvies-and the metal deck was _cold_ for bare feet.

There was nothing useful in the room, so Meetra headed out the door and down the hall. The corridor was blocked by a pressure door with a damaged locking mechanism. Two other doors opened off either side of the hallway; they were marked 'morgue' and 'medical office.' The morgue was locked, but the office sounded promising. Meetra opened the office door and began to search. There wasn't much inside, just a few medpacs mounted to the wall and a lab bench for synthesizing medicines. Meetra turned to the medical computer. A little slicing, and she had access to the medical officer's files.

Much of the data was corrupted, but what was left was fairly sinister. She was on some sort of mining station. She had arrived unconscious, aboard a light freighter. The ship was badly damaged, apparently by laser fire. The only other person on board was an old woman, dead on arrival. Shortly after she was brought aboard, an explosion in the mine had killed and injured several miners. That didn't explain the dead men in the kolto tanks; Meetra looked deeper. The five kolto tanks had all been programmed to administer an overdose of sedatives. This had been lethal to the miners, but Meetra had fortunately resisted the poisoning. She sucked in a breath. _Someone just tried to kill me, and they didn't care that four other people would die too_.

She used the medical officer's authorization to open the morgue door, hoping for another exit to get around the blocked passageway. No such luck-the main door was the only way in or out. The old woman Meetra had arrived with lay on a slab, dressed in a set of brown and tan robes. A dead miner lay on the slab next to her, under a sheet. Meetra searched the dead man's personal effects. _Ah! Finally, some good luck._ The miner's clothing had been shredded and burnt by an explosion in the tunnels, but his tool belt was intact. It held a pair of empty pouches, a sheath for a short blade-and a plasma torch.

Meetra picked up the belt, turned to leave, and nearly died of fright: the 'dead' woman was standing between her and the door.

"Find what you are looking for amongst the dead?" Her voice was low for a woman's, slightly rough-and familiar.

Meetra frowned. "Your voice. I heard it as I floated in the kolto tank."

The woman nodded. "Yes, I had hoped as much-I slept here too long, and could not awaken. It may be I reached out unconsciously, and your mind must have been a willing one." She angled her head slightly. "Or perhaps you have been trained for such things?"

"So you can touch minds… and feign death." Meetra's lips thinned. "Who are you?"

"I am Kreia, and I am your rescuer-as you are mine," she said. "Tell me-do you recall what happened?"

Meetra shook her head. "Last thing I remember, I was on board a Republic ship, the _Harbinger_ … what happened to it?"

"Your ship was attacked," replied Kreia. "You were the only survivor… a result of your Jedi training, no doubt."

Meetra's eyes narrowed. "How do you know I was a Jedi?"

Kreia looked her up and down. "Your stance, your walk tells me you are a Jedi. Your walk is heavy, you carry something that weighs you down."

Meetra looked at the floor. "The Jedi Order and I have a… troubled history."

"So it would seem," Kreia said evenly. "Keep your past-and let us focus on the now."

"All right." Meetra took a breath and let it out. "What's going on? How did we get here?"

Kreia shrugged. "I do not know. I was removed from the events of the world as I slept. A survey of the surroundings may provide the answers we seek." She glanced down the hall. "The ship we arrived in must still be in this place. We should recover it and leave."

Meetra cocked her head. "Why do we need to leave?"

"We were attacked once, and I fear our attackers will not give up the hunt so easily," answered Kreia. "Without transport, weapons, and information, they will find us easy prey indeed."

"You seem nervous, worried," Meetra said. "Is something wrong?"

Kreia nodded slowly. As she angled her head, Meetra saw beneath her hood. Her eyes were completely white-Kreia was blind. "Even as I slept, I felt much unrest here-I saw strange visions, minds colored with fear-now, everything here feels terribly silent. I would find out as much as you can about this place quickly-I fear we will need to depart as suddenly as we arrived."

"We'll see." Meetra glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "There's got to be someone left alive around here."

"You may wish to extend your search to some clothes, if only for proper first impressions," Kreia said dryly.

Meetra smiled, then cocked her head thoughtfully. "You said you felt some of what happened while you slept. The patients in med bay were killed by a lethal dose of sedatives. Any idea how it happened?"

Kreia shook her head. "I do not know-why did they spare you?"

"They didn't," snorted Meetra. "I got the same dose, but survived."

"Indeed, a Jedi trance could protect one from such poisons…" Kreia stroked her chin. "In fact, the sedatives may have been intended to keep you unconscious for some time. It would prove lethal to those untrained in such techniques, however. Most curious."

Meetra frowned. "You seem to know a lot about Jedi techniques." _Who are you?_

"And so do you," smiled Kreia. "Perhaps we could discuss it at length later on-now we have other concerns-among them, finding our new enemy."

Meetra buckled on the belt. "I'll return soon to make sure you're all right."

Kreia nodded. "I leave you to the explorations of this place… here I will remain and attempt to center myself."

* * *

Meetra crossed the hall and slipped the medpacs into a belt pouch. The plasma torch ignited with a low _whoosh_ ; she cut through the damaged door around the lock. The broken mechanism fell to the floor with a clang and the door ground open. Two dead miners lay in the next section of hallway near a shattered mining droid; both had been shot. Meetra knelt to search them and came up with a vibrocutter. It was a common tool used to cut through tough materials, but it could also serve as a short sword. It fit nicely into the sheath on the tool belt. She looked around the room. To her right was a sealed turbolift door, and there was another door to the left. She shrugged and headed that way.

The door slid open and two more mining droids turned to face Meetra. The low-slung robots walked crab-like on four legs. Each had a pair of tool arms with mining lasers. They were somewhat damaged; one was missing a blaster arm and another had some sensor damage. The droids began firing and Meetra dove to the floor. She ran in and slashed at one of the droids, hacking off one of its arms. The droid tracked her with the other arm and fired. Meetra spun out of the way and the bolts hit the other droid; it crashed to the floor, sparking. She finished the droid off before it could attack her again.

Meetra frowned. _The droids are attacking people, and someone poisoned the injured miners. What's going on here?_ She opened the door to find two more damaged mining droids and another body. No hesitation this time-she rushed the droids and crippled them by taking some legs off, then finished them before they could recover. Meetra looked down at the body; a laser drill sat on the floor near the man's right hand. She retrieved the improvised pistol and clipped it to a hook on her belt.

The door at the far end of the hall opened into an office. Meetra checked the desk terminal first. This was the mine's security office. The logs were as fragmented-and disturbing-as the ones from the medical bay. The mine's droids and systems seemed to have been malfunctioning, injuring several miners. The security chief was angry with the head of maintenance; he seemed to be worried about sabotage. A few days prior he had set up an override system to shut down any droids on the administration level, in case the glitches got worse. One of the chief's journal entries mentioned some captured contraband in the security storage room. Meetra decided to check that out next. As she approached the door, Meetra felt slightly odd.

 _Be careful,_ Kreia said, _there is much energy in the room beyond… yet it stems from nothing that lives._

Meetra blinked-the old woman's voice was in her mind. "Kreia, wh-?"

 _Can you not sense them?_ Kreia asked. _Reach out… cast aside your sight, cast aside what you see, and instead, reach out with your perceptions._

Meetra concentrated as she hadn't in years. There was something there-three flickers beyond the door. _Ah, you_ can _feel them,_ said Kreia. _The droids you cannot perceive, but the small oscillations of energy… that you can feel, echoing outwards._

Meetra took a deep breath and readied herself. She opened the door. Three mining droids stood waiting-and they _weren't_ damaged. Two began shooting as the third moved towards her. Meetra drew the vibrocutter in her right hand and the plasma torch in her left. She took an arm off the first droid and then burned through its control cluster with the torch. The other two kept shooting as she ran in. A bolt hit Meetra in the right forearm; she cried out and dropped the cutter. The droids closed in for the kill. Meetra melted the second droid's processor, but the third knocked her down and pinned her with its legs. She couldn't lift her arm to use the torch. The droid raised its arm to crush her skull.

Meetra desperately tried to shove the robot off with her empty right hand. She felt a sudden vibration, and electricity coursed over the droid. It jerked, twitched, and crashed to the ground next to her. Meetra looked at her hand, confused. _Can it be?_

 _Ah, you hear it,_ said Kreia. _It is faint… but it is there._

Meetra lay on the deck, completely drained. "What is happening?"

 _It is the Force you feel,_ Kreia replied. _It has not been so long as for you to forget._

Meetra rolled to her hands and knees. "But it doesn't feel like it did," she said slowly. "It feels like it is coming from across a great distance."

 _Do not turn away from it,_ Kreia said quietly. _Listen… feel it echoing within you._

Meetra knelt on the deck. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The vibration was tiny, but she felt it nonetheless-the smallest sound in the greatest stillness. The Force was with her once more.

* * *

There was no time for celebration. Meetra was still stuck on a mining station, she knew not where, and there were dead people everywhere. She used a medpac on her injured arm, then walked over to the contraband footlocker. Inside was a stealth field generator and a couple of ion grenades. Meetra took everything and moved on. The door opened onto the main mining control room. There were several droids, and they all scuttled to surround her. Meetra threw a grenade. The blast dropped two droids and temporarily scrambled the rest. Meetra ran for the control console and hit the override switch. The droids regained control, but stood still, perfectly docile.

Meetra had a look at the control console. It wasn't working properly, so she looked around the room. The boards displaying systems information were showing static. There was another sealed turbolift and two hallways leading to the station's docking arms. The remaining door was marked 'holding cells.' With no other options, Meetra walked up to it.

 _Ah,_ came Kreia's voice. _Beyond this door someone yet lives… Be mindful, his thoughts are difficult to read._ Meetra hesitated in front of the door. _But you have nothing to fear from this one, and he might yet prove useful,_ Kreia finished. Meetra nodded and opened the door.

The station's detention area was a small room with four force cages. The one in the left rear was active. It held a man in his mid-to-late twenties. He was tall, with a light complexion, dark brown hair, and hazel eyes. He wore a ribbed short-sleeve jacket of brown leather over a simple white shirt and navy blue pants with a yellow leg stripe. He looked Meetra up and down, spending more time than was proper gazing at her bust and groin. "Nice outfit." He smiled crudely. "What, you miners change regulation uniform while I've been in here?"

"I'd keep those eyes up, and tell me who you are," Meetra said sharply.

"Atton… Atton Rand," he replied, only glancing up for a second. "Excuse me if I don't shake hands. The field only causes minor electrical burns."

Meetra crossed her arms. "Care to explain why you're locked up?"

"Security claimed I violated some trumped-up regulation or other." Atton waved dismissively. "Take it up with them if you want, but they stopped listening to me shortly before they stopped feeding me. Now _that's_ criminal."

 _First things first,_ thought Meetra. "What is this place?"

Atton rolled his eyes. "You mean you didn't come here on purpose? I'm shocked, I really am." He looked to the ceiling and gestured with both hands. "This slice of paradise is the Peragus mining facility, the only supplier of shipping-grade engine fuel to this corner of the galaxy."

"This facility's deserted," said Meetra. "What happened?"

"You mean, before or after that Jedi showed up?" asked Atton. "Either way, it's a real short story. You see, this Jedi shows up, and you know what that means-where there's one Jedi, the Republic will soon be crawling up your ion engine in no time." Atton snorted and placed a hand to his forehead. "But the story gets better. See, some of the miners get it into their ferrocrete skulls that since the Jedi's unconscious, they can collect the bounty the Exchange has posted for live Jedi. Well, what passes for the law here didn't like that idea, so the two groups started fighting." Atton grunted. "Then there was some big explosion, I was sitting here for a long time, then you showed up in your underwear and things got a lot better."

Meetra decided to ignore that last bit. "There's a bounty on captured Jedi? Why?"

Atton shook his head. "Don't know much about it. Maybe the Exchange wants one as a trophy, or somebody's got something against Jedi and is looking to collect. Not many Jedi left… wouldn't surprise me if the bounty's pretty high."

"Not many Jedi left?" said Meetra, startled. "What happened to them?"

"The ones that weren't killed in the Jedi Civil War ended up switching off the lightsabers long ago," said Atton. "Word is, there's not even a Jedi Council anymore, but who knows?"

"I had heard rumors of a war," Meetra said slowly, "but a war between Jedi?"

"Yeah," said Atton, still staring at Meetra's legs, "Revan, Malak, and the Jedi that went to join them in the Mandalorian Wars. They turned against the other Jedi and had a scrap that almost laid waste to the galaxy. Where have you been?"

Meetra looked down. "I've been… away since the Mandalorian Wars."

"Well, I wasn't there," said Atton, "but like all Sith, Revan and Malak turned on each other. After they turned on the Jedi, of course."

Meetra blinked. "I was led to believe that Revan saved the Jedi-and the Republic."

Atton shrugged. "I guess… there's rumors all over space about it. All I heard was Revan returned to pay Malak back for trying to kill her in the first place. You know women."

"How long have you been in that cage?" Meetra asked incredulously. "Revan was a man, not a woman."

"Maybe you're right," said Atton, "maybe I just hoped Revan was a woman."

Meetra rolled her eyes. "This discussion about Revan is pointless. I need to know what happened here."

"Look," said Atton brusquely, "not like your half-naked interrogation isn't a personal fantasy of mine, but…" He trailed off as he finally looked back up to Meetra's face. Atton's mouth fell open. "Hey, wait a minute-you're that Jedi the miners were talking about. Where is everybody?"

"I don't know," replied Meetra, shrugging. "This facility seems abandoned. I've seen seven dead so far."

Atton looked back down, just thinking this time. "The miners can't all be gone. But if they are…" He raised his head and met Meetra's eyes. "Look, hey, let me out, and I can help you. I can. I've gotten out of trouble countless times."

Meetra pursed her lips. "Tell me your plan, and we can go from there."

"This facility isn't a military installation," said Atton, "which means we may have a chance. You shut down this cell's security field, and I can reroute the emergency systems so we can get to the hangars. We grab a ship and then we fly out of here."

Meetra took a moment to think and nodded. "I trust you. And if we work together, we may be able to get out of this mess." She walked to the wall switch and shut down the force field.

Atton stepped out of the force cage. "Great-now to business. Let's get to the command console."

"All right," said Meetra, "let's go. I'm Meetra Surik, by the way." The pair headed back to the console in the bay window.

"All right, here we are," said Atton, as he began to type. "Now, this console is set on automatic hail; you may have heard it when you came in. The asteroid drift charts are constantly being updated, so it sends out a transmission to incoming vessels so they don't get crushed into space dust. The hail warns them to keep their distance until orbital drift charts are transmitted, and then provides docking instructions to incoming ships, usually freighters." His brow furrowed as he worked the terminal. "The thing is, you can bounce that same transmission back to the comm here… and suddenly, you've got access to the communications system from the inside."

The console chimed and Atton grinned. "Pure pazaak-the console's ours. Now, all we need to do is re-activate the turbolifts, cancel the emergency lockdown… hey." He blinked and examined the console closely."

Meetra walked up next to him. "What's wrong?"

"This system's been severed from the main hub," Atton said slowly, " _after_ it was locked down from remote. You can't even reroute the system, it's been cut clean."

Meetra frowned. "That wouldn't be standard procedure in an emergency lockdown."

Atton shook his head angrily. "No-someone tried to lock down this whole level tight, and leave us here. Trapped."

Meetra turned to face him. "Is there anything else we can do with this console?"

Atton put a worried hand to his mouth. "I doubt it. All we have is communications back, for all the good trying to shout in a vacuum will do us."

"Let's see if we can try and reach someone on the comm," said Meetra. "We may not be the only ones trapped."

Atton nodded. "Be my guest-not much else we can do. The comm's all yours." He stepped aside, to give Meetra room at the console.

Meetra selected the miner's dormitory and hit the call button. She got nothing but static. Next, she tried the hangar bay. There was a response-the beeping of a droid. _Here's hoping it isn't sabotaged_. "Do a diagnostic, then stand by for instructions."

Text appeared on the console. "Designation: T3-M4. Class: utility astromech. Status: operational. Ready for orders, master."

"We're trapped up on the administration level," said Meetra. "Can you unlock the turbolifts?" There was a moment of silence, then the droid responded in the negative. The turbolifts were stopped at the dormitory level and fuel depot, and could only be unlocked manually from there. Meetra took a moment to think. "There must be emergency hatches-try to find one."

T3 beeped in the affirmative, cut the comm, and got to work.

* * *

 **A/N: Here we go! This is the last main section of the saga, covering KotOR II. This fic is much more dialogue-heavy than the others, because more of the dialogue in TSL is plot-relevant, where I cut a lot of the talking from KotOR I when writing Second Chances. As a result, this is the longest fic section, clocking in at over 210k words. I do think that I keep the action coming well enough to keep the fic interesting, and I have a few AU surprises in store. As you read through this, please review or PM me and let me know what you think. It really makes a world of difference.**


	2. Peragus, part two

**Disclaimer: The HK droids were brought to life by excellent voice acting from Kristoffer Tabori.**

* * *

The little droid swiveled his head and inspected the area around him. He was in a storage room off the hangar. He had been put to work making facility repairs after landing the damaged _Ebon Hawk_. The mine maintenance officer and security chief's attempts at accessing his core were frankly pathetic, and T3 had fed them a false set of files concerning the ship's crew and mission. He had been activated six years ago and in all that time, he had never had a memory wipe. This made him nearly sentient-he still was bound by programming commands, but had much more flexibility than the standard droid, and even something approaching emotion. He ran a second systems check. The mine maintenance officer hadn't recognized his shock arm as a weapon. He was still lacking some equipment-he had removed his blasters and computer and sensor upgrades before landing, to appear as a stock astromech. T3 tooted and moved to the door to the hangar control room.

The door was locked, but easy enough to crack. T3 rolled up the ramp to the control console; the _Ebon Hawk_ sat in the hangar pad below the window. T3 plugged in his computer probe. It was immediately apparent that this was no ordinary lockdown. The door to the hangar bay was missing its control conduit. The fuel depot force fields were up to contain a gas leak, but no leaking was visible on the cameras. T3 had no olfactory sensors, but he smelled a rat nonetheless. With the force fields up, it was impossible for anyone to get from the rest of the facility into the hangar, so anyone on the station was trapped here. The little droid began looking through the computer system. All command access had been transferred to a terminal in the fuel depot. T3 tried to open the door, but was stopped by firewalls. He needed his slicing module, but it was in the secure storage room, along with everything else which had been aboard the _Hawk_. The room was sealed, and T3 couldn't get past the high-security door.

T3 called up a schematic of the hangar. He considered his options, which didn't take more than one percent of a moment. The other door out of the storage room led to the fuel pipe inspection access on the lower level. The fuel lines ran from the fuel depot into the hangar, and then out the docking arms to connect to ships. If he could enter a fuel line, he could use it to bypass the force fields and enter the fuel depot lower level, then take the access ramps to the catwalk where the console was located. The astromech opened the door and found two mining droids waiting. They began firing immediately.

T3 extended his shock arm and dropped one droid. The second hit T3 with its mining laser, but failed to penetrate his plating. T3 fried the second droid as well, then headed down the ramp. He entered the inspection chamber. Each fuel line was a massive pipe, two and a half meters in diameter. A pair of hatches allowed technicians to enter and inspect the lines from the inside. T3 opened the hatch and wailed in surprise. A dead miner lay inside. T3 warbled sadly and grabbed the corpse with his manipulator arm to drag it out of the way. The miner's body shifted and his pack fell to the floor. It opened and a sonic blasting charge rolled out. T3 tooted happily, retrieved the charge and made for the ramp. He halted as he saw two more mining droids. These two were more advanced, and powered on shields. T3 accelerated, firing on the move. The droids kept shooting, but their laser subroutines were meant for asteroid rock, which is a big, stationary target. It took several shocks to drop the droids' shields, but T3 was eventually able to defeat them both. He returned to the storage area. The blasting charge made short work of the lock on the door. T3 rolled in, cracked the footlocker, and installed his hardware upgrades. He returned to the hangar console and opened the door to the fuel depot. He entered the corridor to the depot; six shielded droids sat waiting, lasers aimed. T3 let out a scornful sputter and raised his blaster array.

The mining droids moved in, firing as they came. T3 began weaving to throw off their aim and returned fire. The Tystels could pierce shields to some extent; they burned through the weak mining shields like they were soap bubbles. T3 rolled on, past the wrecked droids and into the turbolift to the fuel depot. He exited the lift and found the console, high above the tanks and fuel lines of the depot. T3 plugged in-at full capacity, he swept aside the security measures and gained full access. His assumptions were correct-there was no fuel leak. There had been an explosion, however, and the facility was damaged. T3 found the override and released the seals on the emergency escape hatch connecting the mining tunnels to the administration levels. He unplugged and was turning to leave when a massive ion blast hit him. T3 let out a warbling screech before his systems overloaded and shut down.

* * *

Meetra stood at the console, waiting for T3 to contact her. She was worried that whoever was sabotaging the facility might notice activity on the computers. A vibrocutter and mining laser wouldn't be much good against someone with the resources to sabotage the mining facility and kill almost the entire crew.

Atton had other things on his mind-two of them, by the look on his face. "So, uh, how long have you been a Jedi? Must be tough, you know… no family, no husband."

Meetra looked daggers at him. "No tougher than enduring your false sympathy while you're staring at my chest."

Atton raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I wasn't trying to…" A beep from the console cut him off. Atton ran over and l checked the display. "Hey, what do you know-that little cargo cylinder came through."

Meetra frowned. "It looks like it. But it's strange he didn't contact us on the comm."

"If he got the turbolifts working, then we should have a clear run to the hangar," said Atton.

"The turbolifts are locked down manually," said Meetra. "I had him open the emergency hatch."

"Wait, wait," stammered Atton. "Don't tell me you're taking that hatch down into the mining tunnels… are you?" He shook his head. "That explosion I heard came from below. There's probably nothing down there except superheated rock and collapsed blast tunnels. You'd be an idiot to go down there."

"Maybe, but it's the only way out, and it's better I risk my life than yours," Meetra said calmly.

Atton crossed his arms. "You're either really brave or really crazy-or both." He let his arms fall to his sides. "All right. I'll try to monitor things from up here. Be careful-the only thing moving down there is likely to be mining droids, so don't be playing hero too hard." He blinked. "Uh, not that I care what happens to you or anything. I just don't want to be trying to get off this rock by myself."

"Your concern is noted," said Meetra, smiling wryly.

"Wait," said Atton. He opened a compartment next to one of the displays and took out a comlink. "I'll keep the comm open. I may be able to guide you through the tunnels from up here. Don't know if the signal will hold if you get too deep, though."

"Here, take this." Meetra handed over the mining laser, then pulled out the belt from the security footlocker. "Do you know how to use a stealth field generator?"

Atton chuckled. "That's mine. Security locked me up for having it."

Meetra nodded. "Then, you can disappear if more droids come. I'll head down now."

* * *

The emergency hatch was near the security office. Inside was the emergency turbolift, and a long ladderway in case of power loss. Meetra took the elevator down nearly a hundred meters into the top level of the actual mine. The lower levels appeared to have caved in. Her comm chirped. "Can you read me?" Atton's voice was somewhat distorted.

"Barely," Meetra answered. "There's a lot of static."

"There's a lot of interference down there," Atton said, "probably caused by that explosion. Still, it looks like there's a route down to the Peragus fuel depot, if the passages haven't collapsed. That explosion knocked out most of the sensors." Meetra heard the sound of typing. "There should be an emergency crate in the next room. Watch yourself-there's a lot of droid broadcasts in that area, but I can't pin them down."

"I'll be careful, then," replied Meetra. "If you detect anything, signal me."

"Will do," said Atton, "and be careful down there."

Meetra moved ahead. There was a plasteel cylinder against the wall in the hallway ahead. She lifted the lid to find several smaller containers. The first held a safety harness with more pockets and pouches for equipment.

Atton called again. "Find the emergency supplies?"

"Yes," Meetra smiled as she pulled out a navy and brown set of miners' coveralls and a pair of work boots. "And it looks like there's some clothes in here."

"Dammit!" snapped Atton. "Uh… I mean good, good to hear it. No sense in you running around half-naked. It's… it's distracting… I mean, for the droids."

Meetra smiled. Atton's tone was completely different; she could tell he was hiding how worried he was. She kept digging in the supply cylinder. "There's some gear in here, too: a harness, some kind of goggles, and a shield."

"Get that safety harness on," said Atton. "It has a transponder which should shut down any sonic mines near you. The survey gear is designed to help you see down there. It'll amplify ambient light and highlight powered equipment, like terminals or mines. The droids can see much better than you can in low light, so those could even the odds some. The mining energy shield will temporarily protect you against heat, if there's gas venting down there."

"Understood," Meetra said. "Anything else?"

"Uh, just one more thing," said Atton. "I've narrowed down some of the ID signals, and if the numbers are right, you're sharing those tunnels with a battalion of mining droids."

Meetra swallowed and nodded. "Okay… I'm open to suggestions."

"There's got to be some central controller down there." She heard Atton typing on the console again. "See if you can find a terminal by the main access shaft: that'd be governing intelligence."

Meetra donned the harness and goggles and got moving. The door at the end of the passage slid open to reveal the mining tunnel. It was a nightmare: main power was out, and much of the emergency lighting had been damaged. Meetra began walking down the uneven passage. It was uncomfortably warm; pockets of fuel were still burning on the lower levels.

Meetra was rounding a corner when Atton spoke up again. "Watch where you step-I'm picking up a lot of sonic mines down there. Don't run unless you have to, it makes them harder to spot. The harness should in-activate them, but the heat might have damaged the electronics."

Meetra walked slowly ahead, scanning the ground for charges. Then she saw it-a small disc shape in a pile of loose rock, with a small, blinking red light. There was no way around it-the tunnel was too narrow. She moistened her lips and inched forward. The red light blinked green and Meetra let out a sigh of relief. She retrieved the mine and deactivated it, then tucked it into a pouch on her belt and continued on down the tunnel. The goggles helped her spot a second mine ahead. Meetra was about to collect it when a mining droid stepped out from behind a corner. Meetra drew her vibrocutter, then noticed that the droid wasn't aiming for her. She sprinted past the robot as it fired its lasers into the mine. The blast brought the ceiling down on the droid, blocking her way back.

 _Frakk, that was close. What in space is going on here? Mining droids shouldn't be smart enough to lay a trap like that!_ Meetra got to her feet and continued on. The tunnel opened to a small room, lit by glowing gas in a transport field. Another body lay in the pool of light. The dead miner had stood and fought, and five droids had fallen before the rest killed him. Meetra retrieved the advanced mining laser at his side. The cutting tool was essentially an underpowered blaster rifle. Meetra sheathed her vibrocutter, hefted the laser, and kept going. She peeked around another corner to find four droids waiting in another room. One was placing a mine. A small sensor ball floated above them.

Meetra smiled. _Turnabout is fair play._ She took careful aim and fired. The blast wrecked three droids and blew both arms off the fourth. Meetra closed in. The sensor ball swooped down and lifted one of the broken arms with a tractor beam. It swung and reattached it to the droid with a small welding beam. The droid began shooting as the drone began to reattach the second laser. Meetra cursed and fired at the drone, but missed the tiny target. She was forced to cover as the mining droid returned fire. She had an idea. Meetra swung out from behind the corner and blew a leg off the droid. The drone swooped down and began lifting the leg to repair it, and stopped moving. Meetra shot the ball out of the air, then finished off the mining droid. She moved past the wreckage.

The passage up ahead was obscured by a thick mist. "Hey, watch out!" Atton called. "That explosion has super-heated the tunnels ahead; those hot gases'll cook the skin off your bones. Remember that you've got that mining energy shield. Switch it on-it should protect you against the heat if you move quickly enough."

Meetra stepped up to the edge of the hot zone and activated the armband. It came on with a hum and a red energy field wrapped itself around Meetra like a bodysuit. She ran into the steam. The shield unit began to whine as it absorbed the brutal heat. She kept running, straining to see through the mist. The armband chirped to indicate fifty percent charge. Meetra slammed into a wall; the tunnel curved and she hadn't seen it. She turned and saw light filtering through the steam. The armband blared a ten-second warning. Meetra scrambled for the light as the shield overloaded. She felt the searing heat on her back as she burst out of the tunnel.

Meetra stopped to catch her breath; there weren't any droids close. "You're getting close to something big," called Atton. "I think it's the main ventilation shaft. The central droid controller should be somewhere nearby. Keep an eye out for it. Watch yourself-I'm picking up a lot of droids."

She looked around. The room was the size of a small hangar. The lights were still on here. There was a transport beam moving gases in each corner of the room. The ventilation shaft was a massive hole in the ceiling and floor. A walkway crossed the gap, and there was a computer terminal on a platform in the center. At least a dozen droids and several repair drones were trying to get at her from the gas lines, but they were trapped behind force fields. Meetra headed for the console and began working. She pulled up a map and found her exit. The lift to the fuel depot was down a corridor in one corner of the room. The containment fields were blocking the route, but shutting them down would release the droids. Meetra checked the droid control system. The droids were programmed to 'mine' any organics in the facility. She quickly reversed the hostile code and lowered the force fields to leave.

The droids immediately attacked. Meetra was forced to hunker down behind the console and return fire. _I canceled their attack orders… someone must have the ability to override the mine's systems_. Meetra kept shooting, taking out several droids and drones. The droids made a push; two laid sonic mines at either end of the walkway. Meetra got to her feet as the blast severed the walkway from the floor. She felt a sudden strength in her legs and leaped. Her Force jump carried her nearly ten meters to the edge of the shaft. She hit and rolled, then got up running and headed for the turbolift.

"Hey, I'm picking up some strange readings." Atton's voice was strained. "What are you doing down there?"

Meetra had a sinking feeling. "What kind of readings?"

"The containment fields in the mining tunnels are shutting down," said Atton worriedly. "You need to get out of there before they vent fuel to the surface of the asteroid through the tunnels!"

Meetra's jaw dropped. _Oh, shit…_ "How much time do I have?"

"I may be able to keep it contained until you get the turbolift to the fuel depot, but not much longer," Atton answered. "You're almost to the lift-move and you'll make it."

Meetra slung the laser and ran. The corridor seemed to go on forever, but she rounded a bend and found the turbolift open and waiting. The doors shut behind her and the lift rose. The car began to shake violently. The turbolift reached the fuel depot; Meetra dove through the opening just before blast doors slammed shut and sealed the top of the shaft.

* * *

The fuel depot looked much the same as the administration level. Meetra appeared to be in the maintenance shop. She began looking for a way through to the hangar. She saw movement to her left and turned. A red-haired man lay dead on the floor, and a tall silver droid was walking up to her. It was humanoid, with an angular head and yellow photoreceptors. "Greeting: It is a pleasure to see you alive, Master, providing my receptors are not off-focus. How may I be of assistance?"

"How do you know me?" asked Meetra, frowning. "I'm not your master."

"Answer: I am a survivor of the _Harbinger_ , just as you were, Master," replied the droid. "With the unexpected termination of my previous Master, you are the only organic which I may now serve."

Meetra cocked her head. "Who was your previous Master?"

"Answer: the captain of the _Harbinger_ , Master," said the droid. "I was in transit to Telos to facilitate communications and terminate hostilities. However, we did not arrive at our intended destination."

"How did we get here?" Meetra asked.

"Explanation: You do remember boarding the Republic cruiser _Harbinger_ in the Far Rim, Master? My designation is HK-50; I was the protocol droid assigned to that ship. Approximately four days ago, the _Harbinger_ received a distress call and diverted course to investigate. Shortly after the course change, the cruiser experienced a cascade failure in its major systems-weapons, engines, even life support. The situation became critical, threatening the lives of everyone on board."

Meetra frowned. "How come I don't remember any of this?"

"Answer: I drugged you, Master." Meetra's jaw dropped; the droid continued quickly. "Explanation: The cruiser was drifting, and emergency life support was failing. I sedated you and sealed you in a cargo compartment. I was trying to keep you alive until rescue arrived-humans need considerably less oxygen while asleep. Despite my best efforts, you still suffered from hypoxia for a short time."

"Well, that was inventive," said Meetra. "But how did I get from the _Harbinger_ to here?"

"Recitation: Following the unusual set of coincidences that led to the cascade failure in the _Harbinger_ 's systems, we were boarded by a small freighter with unknown ID codes," answered the droid. "It appeared that this freighter had been attacked, and the captain wanted to study it. This freighter appeared to still be spaceworthy. Your cargo compartment was breached, and you were taken on board the freighter shortly before the _Harbinger_ 's systems began to go critical. I, too, managed to board the freighter before the _Harbinger_ 's destruction. We were most fortunate to have survived, Master."

"Any idea what had attacked the small freighter?" asked Meetra.

"Evaluation: Master, I do not know," said the droid. "Judging from the damage, it had been attacked by a much larger vessel. And when it attempted to escape the _Harbinger_ with you on board, it was fired on again. Addendum: It does seem odd that such a small vessel has a high probability of attracting the attention of much larger vessels. Not a welcome trait in a freighter, to be sure."

Meetra pursed her lips. "What was this freighter that the _Harbinger_ brought on board?"

"Explanation: I believe it was a smuggler's vessel by the name of the _Ebon Hawk_ ," replied the droid. "As to its purpose, I do not know. Perhaps it was always its intention to play dead, then kidnap you off the _Harbinger_."

Meetra nodded slowly. "And the _Ebon Hawk_ came here?"

The droid turned his head slowly back and forth. "Apology: My memory core cannot provide a clear answer on that point, Master. I was deactivated shortly after boarding the _Ebon Hawk_. Suffice to say that once we arrived at this floating rock, our situation became much clearer."

"How so?" asked Meetra.

"Explanation: Despite my market value, Master, the miners were far more interested in you," said the HK. "It did not take long for me to ascertain the reason for this. While an HK protocol droid is a valuable piece of property, Jedi are worth much more in certain… exclusive markets across the galaxy."

"The Exchange bounty," sighed Meetra. "All right, so what happened once I got here?"

"Answer: the miners debated what to do with you as you lay unconscious in the medical bay," said the droid. "One group seemed intent on selling you as property. The other group opposed this."

 _I can see where this is headed_ , thought Meetra. "Then what happened?"

"Recitation: Three standard hours after the division between the miners became apparent, accidents began to occur throughout the facility. A result of improper maintenance, I believe. The mining droid behavior cores began to suffer from binary decay… crude models are prone to such failures, resulting in murderous rampages. At about the same time, several explosions occurred in gas pockets down in the mines. The miners sought shelter in the dormitory section-a fatal mistake."

"Why was that a mistake?" asked Meetra.

"Explanation: the gas explosions released afterdamp in the tunnels," the HK said. "The blast damaged sections of the facility's ventilation system, and the afterdamp was drawn into the ductwork, causing a slow, lethal buildup of toxic fumes in the dormitory level."

 _I need to get in there, to see if there's a way to end the lockdown. Problem is, the lift connecting the dormitory to the administration level is locked down from the dormitory end._ Meetra rubbed her chin. "Is there any way to reach them?"

"Theory: You could walk across the surface of the asteroid to the dormitory airlock," the droid said slowly, "but such a route would be extremely hazardous, and I do not wish to see you damaged."

Meetra crossed her arms. "Those miners could be hurt or in danger-we need to make sure they're all right."

"Statement: Master, I cannot devise a way to enter the dormitory," replied the HK. "The console governing the droid maintenance area-and the airlock-is protected by a voiceprint protocol." The droid pointed to the dead man. "Musing: In the last days of his life, the maintenance officer was quite careful about voice protocols. Conjecture: I suspect that once he realized that something was wrong in the facility, he voice-locked the droid bay functions. The console code is 'Maintenance control: voiceprint ID: R1-B5,' but unless the maintenance officer speaks the code, it is useless."

Meetra swore. "All right, wait here." She headed out of the maintenance area and onto the walkways above the fuel depot. Force fields blocked the path to the hangar on the far side of the depot. She headed the other way, toward the airlock and the turbolift to administration. She had nearly reached the door at the end of the walkway when it slid open. Two droids walked through-two _big_ droids. These were bipedal, and well over two meters tall. They were equipped with a mining laser on one arm and a sharp-fingered manipulator claw on the other. Both droids raised their arms and advanced on her.

* * *

 **A/N: I love the little segments we get to play as someone other than the PC. I have tried to incorporate more of them into the fic, and expand on the ones already in game, like the T3 bit in the fuel depot.**


	3. Peragus, part three

**Disclaimer: I did not invent the outer space sequence where all you hear is your own breathing. That was Kubrick.**

* * *

Meetra began to bring up her laser. These droids were faster than the crawlers; one droid darted forward and knocked the laser flying; it slid down the deck to the far end of the walkway behind her. The second droid advanced on her left and slashed at Meetra's head. She backflipped out of the way and drew her vibrocutter and torch. The droids fired and Meetra dodged. _Get in close-they have the advantage at a distance._ She moved in, weaving to avoid the droids' laser fire. She slashed at the droid on the right. It parried her vibrocutter with its laser arm. Meetra spun and cut off the arm with her torch. The second droid attacked. Meetra ducked its claw and slashed a hydraulic hose in its leg. The droid fell and Meetra burned out its processor. The first droid slashed again. Meetra blocked and spun around the droid's back. The droid kicked backwards, knocking Meetra's leg out from under her. Meetra fell, and the droid raised its claw to finish her. She rolled out of the way as the claw dug into the pierced metal floor. Meetra cut the droid in half before it could free its arm from the deck.

She walked back to retrieve the laser and headed through the door. Straight ahead was the suit storage room for the airlock. Meetra didn't dare torch the locks; she had to get into that console. The turbolift to the administration level was down a short corridor to her right. Meetra took the lift back to the administration level; it let out in the mine control room. Meetra headed for the console and skidded to a halt: Four mining droids stood waiting in the center of the room.

"Relax," said Atton, walking out from the console. "They're friendly. I've sliced them to defend organics. That'll do for stopping other droids. If the person who sabotaged the facility comes after us, we'll have to handle them ourselves."

Meetra nodded. "Nice work. It'll be good to have a safe area to base from while I keep looking for a way into the hangar." She cocked her head. "I was hoping you'd have an idea to help me. I need to get through a locked door. I have the code, but it's voice-printed."

"Damn." Atton scuffed his foot. "That won't be easy. There's ways around voiceprints, but you need samples of the speaker saying the right words. Of course, a good voice synthesizer would work, but we don't have one."

Meetra brightened. "Would a top-end protocol droid be able to mimic human voices?"

Atton nodded. "Yes, but it's not like there's a diplomatic translator just hanging around the station."

Meetra grinned. "Actually, it's _just_ like that. Hold down the fort, I'll be back." She turned and headed back to the turbolift, leaving Atton standing there with his mouth hanging open.

Meetra returned to the maintenance area; the HK turned to face her. "Greeting: It is a pleasure to see you intact, Master. How may I be of assistance?"

Meetra beckoned. "Follow me. I want to take a look at that locked console." The two walked back to a small control room between the turbolift and the airlock.

The protocol droid walked up to a small freestanding console in the corner of the room. "Statement: Here we are, Master. I don't know what good seeing it will do you."

Meetra smiled. "You have a state-of-the-art vocabulator, correct?"

The droid stood very straight. "Proud answer: Yes, Master. I can accurately synthesize the speech of any species in the Republic, and I am programmed with over six thousand forms of communication."

"Good," smiled Meetra. "Then you should be able to mimic the maintenance officer's voice and unlock the console."

The HK's head swiveled down to look at her. "Shocked refusal: Master, use of my functions to bypass security would be a violation of standard Republic ethics programming."

 _So I ask a different question,_ Meetra thought. "The fact that you can mimic voices is pretty impressive. What would it sound like if you _did_ speak the code to the console?"

The droid's voice changed to that of a young man. "Recitation:" Maintenance control: voiceprint ID: R1-B5." The console chimed; the words 'access granted' appeared on screen. "Shocked utterance: Oh no, Master!"

Meetra winked. "Thank you, HK-50. That will be all for now." She got on the console and unlocked the airlock.

She was turning to suit up when the droid stepped into her path. "Warning: Master, continued exploration of this facility may place you in unnecessary danger. The _Harbinger_ has been out of communication for some days; another Republic ship is no doubt on the way to search for the cruiser. I encourage you to return to the medical bay and wait for retrieval."

Meetra shook her head. "I'm not waiting for rescue, and I'm checking the dormitory for survivors. Return to the maintenance bay and wait for instructions-that is an _order_."

The droid paused for a long moment. "Yes, Master. Please use caution; yours is a valuable life." He stepped aside and walked back toward the maintenance area.

Meetra stepped into the suit room and pulled a space suit off the rack. It was a collapsible hard suit that folded into a large rucksack. Meetra readied the suit and loaded her gear into the now-empty pack. She donned the suit and attached the pack to a hook on the back. She clamped the helmet on and stepped into the airlock. Meetra palmed a wall switch and the lock cycled. She stepped out into space, her own breath loud in her ears.

* * *

A metal walkway led from the airlock across the face of the asteroid. A Z-ramp led up to the administration level; the walkway crossed in front of the control room observation window and then another ramp led back down to the dormitory airlock. A jumble of pipework and wires ran across the asteroid surface next to the walkway. Out ahead, the station docking arm jutted out into the black. Small asteroids tumbled by in the medium distance.

Meetra began moving. Her feet clanked down with each step as the magnetic boots grabbed the walkway. She began the climb up the ramp. There was a flash of light and a jet of flame burst out of a large pipe. Meetra threw herself forward to avoid it. She avoided being scorched, but both her feet were off the decking. Meetra scrambled to get a handhold. She was beginning to drift away from the surface. She curled into a ball to spin faster, then shot her feet out and managed to touch the edge of the catwalk. Her boots adhered but scraped along the smooth metal. One boot broke free, but she managed to keep her right toes on the walkway. Meetra closed her eyes and got her breathing under control. She drew up her leg slowly, working to make sure she didn't come loose. She put her other foot down and got back on the walkway properly. The pipe was still blasting flame, blocking the way back. She'd have to get back to administration via the dormitory turbolift.

Her comm chimed. "It's about time," said Atton brusquely. "I lost your signal after you left the mining tunnels. Now you're coming in clear." He paused a moment. "Except I'm picking you up on the exterior of the facility, on the asteroid's surface. That can't be right."

"I'm right outside the observation window." Meetra waved as Atton looked up from the console.

"Huh?" Atton gaped at her. "What are you doing out there?"

"I need to reach the miners in the dormitory section," Meetra answered, "and this is the only way to get there."

"You're crazy," Atton snapped, "even for a Jedi. Look, you need to get out of there, _quick_."

"Believe me, I'm trying to pick up the pace," said Meetra.

Atton glanced down at his console. "What little is left of the facility's venting systems have gone active, most likely from the explosions in the mining tunnels. They're venting Peragus fuel deposits into space through the exterior vents-right in your path!"

 _So that's what that flame jet was._ Meetra turned to look through the window. "Can't you shut them down?"

"I can't," frowned Atton. "I'm locked out of the main systems here. I can monitor the situation, but I couldn't shut it down if I tried." Atton frowned and typed a command into the terminal. "The vents look like they've been purposely rerouted to vent the gases to the exterior, and only in the last few minutes. It's almost as if…" He trailed off as the console started beeping. "Oh, what now?" He looked up in surprise. "I don't believe this-there's a ship coming in, sending a docking code." Atton shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this."

It first became visible as a moving point of light. The dot grew into the familiar shape of a _Hammerhead_ -class cruiser with Republic markings. It approached silently, without any hails other than the automated docking signal. Meetra watched as the ship banked slightly to avoid an asteroid. She was startled to recognize the _Harbinger_. It passed by her catwalk no more than fifty meters away. The ship came to a stop and moved in on thrusters, docking to the station's arm. Aft, its fuel pipe extended and hooked in to the station's refueling port.

Meetra couldn't see anyone on the bridge. Something was telling her that the ship was not good news. Meetra shrugged inside her suit. It was still a way off the station-and at the worst, they could use the fuel line to get into the depot on the far side of the containment fields, and thence to the hangar. She turned and continued to the dormitory airlock. She reached for the handle to cycle the lock, then paused. _The dormitory ventilation system is compromised._ Meetra ran a check on the air on the far side of the door; it showed safe to breathe. Meetra put her tool belt and harness back on. She folded down the suit and packed it, then opened the airlock inner door.

* * *

The hallway stretched away to her right. On the left was a small suit maintenance room. Meetra headed there first. The place was full of space suits and miners' gear being fixed. Meetra searched and found a breathing mask, designed to help miners escape a gas-filled tunnel. She hung it around her neck, where she could put it on quickly if she had to. Meetra headed down the hall. She opened a door to find a dead miner at her feet.

Meetra frowned and moved cautiously ahead. She leapt back and ducked behind the door frame as two automated fire extinguishers popped up out of the floor. They sprayed the doorway area with carbonite. Meetra didn't dare try to run past the freezethrowers. She leaned out and blasted them with her laser, hitting each several times to make sure they were scrapped. She heard the scraping sound of crawler droids, and got into cover to wait. A single mining droid came into view; Meetra dropped it with one well-aimed shot. She could hear more coming, along with the clanking footsteps of the big bipeds.

Meetra took a calming breath. Five crawlers scuttled into the room and began firing. She shot back and dropped two of the droids. The remaining crawlers kept up the fire as the bipeds joined the fight. Meetra ducked behind the corner. She checked her belt pouch: one sonic mine and her last ion grenade. Meetra swung out and threw the grenade. All three crawlers crashed to the floor, overloaded by the ion blast. One of the big droids approached the corner while the other hung back. Meetra stepped up and pointed. It took all the Force she could draw on, but a small bolt of blue lightning leapt from her fingers to hit the droid in the chest. It froze in place, and Meetra pushed it into the other biped's line of fire. The big droid fell; the second came at her, swinging. Meetra ducked and whirled her cutter underhand. She struck under the shoulder joint and cut clean through, taking off the droid's arm and head.

The fight left Meetra drained, but she kept moving. The passage curved slightly as it followed the shape of the asteroid, and Meetra found the entrance to the dormitory proper. It was sealed; Meetra moved to a console across the hallway. She brought up a camera feed of the dormitory. Everyone was dead; the rooms were filled with toxic gas. Meetra pulled on her mask and opened the outer door. She moved into the U-shaped dorm corridor and closed the outer door to keep the gas contained.

Meetra spent the next ten minutes searching the dormitory. She found several datacards with log entries which shed some light on what had happened while she was in the kolto tank. The mine administrator was pretty certain that a small group led by a miner named Coorta were responsible for the sabotage. The mine foreman had recorded Coorta and the maintenance officer plotting to sell Meetra to the Exchange. The _Ebon Hawk_ , repaired by maintenance drones, would serve as the getaway ship. Coorta had killed the foreman before he could alert anyone, and the explosions had occurred moments later. The mine administrator, medical officer, and dock officer had been trying to override the lockdown when the gas had killed everyone in the dormitory. There was nothing Meetra could do, so she left the dormitory and returned to the hallway.

Meetra took a moment to think. She'd been almost everywhere-Coorta had to be in the hangar area. _With the miners dead, why didn't Coorta take me and leave in the ship?_ The answer was fairly obvious. _Coorta would have been the one to set the explosives in the tunnels. The maintenance officer had to be responsible for the slicing and droids, but he's dead-probably killed by Coorta before the lockdown. Then, when Coorta set off the blast, the containment fields trapped him as well._ She just needed to get back to the administration level, collect Atton and Kreia, and get on the cruiser. If they couldn't fly it, they could bypass the force fields via the fuel line, enter the hangar, and take the freighter. Meetra headed for the mess hall and the turbolift back to administration. She stopped in utter shock: Coorta and his crew were dead on the floor; all three had been shot. The turbolift was locked; Meetra checked the console and found a security hologram of what had happened.

Coorta and his men ran into the lift room. He snarled into his comlink. "We almost didn't make it out of the dormitory section before the lockdown, you murglak! You're cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

"Yes, a regrettable miscalculation on my part," said the maintenance officer. "I'm contacting you because I'm picking up a subspace transmission from within that level-is that your doing?"

"No, they… they must be trying to use the old relay system to send an emergency signal," replied Coorta. "I doubt they know what's really going on." He smirked. "Don't worry about the miners and their transmission. By the time help arrives, we'll be all the way to Nar Shaddaa."

"Oh, they won't be leaving the dormitories," the maintenance officer said coldly. "The explosion within the tunnel has damaged the ventilation systems, causing breaches in the core exhaust conduits."

"What?" cried Coorta, "That's going to kill them all!"

"Not all of them," said the maintenance officer. "But I'm sending a number of mining droids to your location right now to correct that problem."

"Coorta, this turbolift's locked down," said one of the crew. "The sequence isn't working."

"Keep trying it!" said Coorta frantically. "You… why are you doing this? Why me?"

"You? It was never about you," the maintenance officer said. "The Jedi is all that interests me. But then you had to ruin everything by revealing her identity, and then trying to harm her. And that I cannot allow."

And then it wasn't the maintenance officer's voice. "Statement: You are a risk, Coorta. You are impulsive, crude… and soon, deceased." Two big droids burst into the room and shot Coorta and the others dead. "Mocking query: Coorta? Coorta, are you dead yet? Smug statement: I believe I forgot to mention that I reversed the turbolift codes in case you managed to get this far."

Meetra stood in a daze. _HK-50 is an assassin droid. How in blazes did I not see that?_ She shook herself. The turbolift was still locked, but Coorta had the code on a scrap of paper. Meetra entered the code backwards and the doors slid open. She hopped inside and took the lift back to administration.

* * *

Meetra emerged in the hallway between the med bay and security; Kreia was waiting for her at the top of the shaft. "I have felt a disturbance. Our enemy is here; we must leave at once."

Meetra unclipped the vibrocutter and sheath from her belt and handed them to Kreia. "Then let's go."

"We need to make our way to the docking area on this level," said Kreia, buckling the blade to her belt. "I fear the airlock has already opened, and if so, we must be on our guard. If we cannot reach the _Ebon Hawk_ , then we must find a way to escape on the ship that has docked here."

They ran through the corridors to the control room. Atton turned and did a double-take as he saw Kreia. "What in space is going on? Who's this? Another Jedi? What, did you guys suddenly start breeding when I wasn't looking?"

Meetra shook her head. "It'll take too long to explain. We have to leave. Now."

"Uh… all right," said Atton, nonplussed. "I'm guessing that Republic ship that just docked isn't carrying friends of yours."

Kreia made a disapproving noise. "I hope your talent for understatement is offset by your skill with a blaster. If not, then I fear our time together will be short indeed."

Atton's grunt was equally disapproving. "Yeah, and I'm also good at running and drinking, your majesty." He turned to Meetra. "And even if you two aren't big friends of the Republic, that warship's the only way off this station." The trio headed for the docking ladder. "Good thing we have a clear run to the shi…"

"Threat: Master, perhaps I did not enunciate clearly the last time we spoke." HK-50 stepped out between them and the exit. "I suggested that you should shut down, stay put, and wait for rescue."

Meetra's hand tightened on the grip of her laser. "After all the deaths you've caused, 'rescue' is hardly the term I would use."

The HK unslung an advanced mining laser. "Correction: I am not here to argue semantics, Master, so I will simply inform you that you are wrong-as were those recently-corrected miners."

Atton was edging toward the console. Meetra realized what he meant to do, and tried to keep the assassin's attention. "So you mimicked the maintenance officer's voice to control the droids and kill all the miners in the medical bay?"

"Indignant answer: Master, the miners intended to place you in jeopardy," replied the droid evenly. "I could not allow that to take place, so I was forced to negotiate a termination of hostilities. After reprogramming the mining droids to 'mine' any organics they perceived, they began to kill the miners one by one. Then a series of flawlessly timed explosions drove the miners into their dormitories-where I was able to gas them all at once without wasting time hunting them through the mining tunnels. I then administered a large dose of sedatives to the remaining miners in med bay, enough to kill them but ensure you slept peacefully. Of course, against my calculations, you awakened from your tank prematurely. I am ashamed by the inconvenience that caused for both of us."

Meetra smiled. "Capturing me will be more than inconvenient. Now, Atton."

The spacer keyed a command into the console. The four crawler droids he had reprogrammed moved in, firing at the assassin. Atton and Meetra joined in with their own lasers. HK-50 powered on a shield and returned fire. The trio scattered, finding cover behind computer banks. The assassin droid focused his attacks on the mining droids, demolishing them one by one. His shield fell as the last crawler was wrecked. Meetra scored hits, but not enough to do serious damage.

She ducked behind cover and thought. There was no way she could get close enough to finish the HK with her torch. _But maybe I don't have to…_ "Shock him, Kreia," she called. The old woman leaned out and struck the droid with blue lightning, temporarily overloading it.

Meetra pulled the sonic mine from her belt pouch. "Atton!" He nodded and Meetra threw the mine. It curved through the air like a discus, and Atton shot it less than a meter from HK-50. The explosion blew the droid to pieces.

Meetra took a deep breath. "Let's get out of here." She led the way to the docking arm and onto the _Harbinger_.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm trying to get through Peragus quickly, but it really has more importance than the _Endar Spire_ , and sets up characters. One more chapter, then we get to the good stuff.**


	4. Peragus, part four

**Disclaimer: I definitely didn't create the terrifying unkillable Sith Lord.**

* * *

Meetra was the first into the cruiser's airlock. The door was open, the corridor silent and empty. The ship seemed to be operating on reduced power. Kreia turned her head slowly from side to side. "Something is wrong… I sense no one on board."

"You sense no one on board?" asked Atton scornfully. "Sense any assassin droids creeping up behind us like last time?"

Kreia shook her head. "Everyone here has been slain, yet there are few signs of battle, no carbon scoring, no blaster fire. This place has been hit by assassins of a different sort."

"Then what are we doing on this ship? We were better off in the facility!" Atton was getting agitated. "You two are supposed to be Jedi? You two are the worst Jedi I've ever met!"

Meetra raised her hands. "Calm down-we need a plan, not accusations."

Kreia crossed her arms. "If the assassin machine was correct, then we cannot reach the hangar… be silent, I need some time to think."

Meetra pointed aft. "We can bypass the force field to the hangar by getting to the engine room on this ship, then exiting through the fuel pipe."

"Look, I don't mean to cast another shadow on this," said Atton, shaking his head, "but even if you could reach the ship you came in on, it wouldn't matter. You'll need the orbital drift charts to clear the Peragus asteroid field, unless you want to have the shortest flight out of Peragus ever recorded."

"The assassin droid was trying to secure me for pickup," said Meetra. "Whoever sent him after me is probably already on their way. We can't stay here, so what do we do?"

Atton stroked his chin. "Normally, you'd download the charts from the docking computer on the station, but the droid will have locked it."

"How did this ship dock here?" asked Meetra.

Atton frowned. "Well, of course, they have the asteroid drift charts in their navicomputer. They'd have to…" He trailed off.

Meetra cocked her head. "How often are new charts produced?"

"Every eight hours," replied Atton.

"How long since this ship docked?" asked Meetra, smiling.

Atton smiled back. "Three and a half hours."

"Our enemies gather while we wait here," said Kreia sternly.

"Atton's plan was a good one," said Meetra. "Let's head to the bridge and get the drift charts." She turned and headed for the bridge with the others following. The door slid open to reveal a grim sight. More than a dozen spacers were dead, including the captain. They were at their posts, and none were armed. The crew had been taken completely by surprise. Meetra motioned for Atton and Kreia to keep watch while she retrieved the charts. It was a moment's work to download them to a datapad. Meetra turned. "Let's get to the engine room. It's on the lower deck; the turbolift is beyond the crew quarters."

The three left the bridge, heading aft through offices and such for the ship's command staff. Meetra was heading past a conference room when she thought she saw movement in the corner of her eye. She turned, but there was nothing there. "I feel it too," said Kreia, "we are not alone." Down the side hallway, a shadow moved weirdly. Meetra brought her weapon up as a masked figure appeared, dressed all in black with red-lensed goggles. He swung a phrik alloy quarterstaff at her. She deflected the strike with her laser, then placed the barrel against his head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened; she had drained the power cell fighting HK-50. Meetra swung the laser like a club, knocking him backwards.

"Watch it," cried Atton, "there's more!" Three more attackers were coming at them from all around. Atton fired and dropped one; he and Kreia took on one each. The enemy fighting Meetra tried for a roundhouse kick, but Meetra swept his plant leg and sent him crashing to the floor. She kicked him in the head as he was getting back up. Kreia parried her opponent's attack masterfully and slashed at him. He hopped backwards, but Kreia caught him in a Force grip and slammed him into the wall. Atton was backpedaling to avoid his enemy's attacks. The black-clad warrior swung at his head. Atton activated his stealth belt and vanished, then reappeared behind his foe and snapped his neck.

Meetra worked to get her breathing back under control. She glanced at Kreia. "As you said, assassins of a different sort."

"There have to be more than four to take down a ship this size." Atton reached down and clicked on the light under his laser's barrel. "Eyes sharp. Cloaking fields distort light-the beam will scatter if it hits someone. The field resembles heat shimmer; watch the seams in the paneling for movement." Meetra dropped the empty mining laser and drew her torch. Atton followed, sweeping his light around. Kreia trailed slightly to cover the rear. They headed further aft; this section held living quarters for the crew and the _Harbinger_ 's naval infantry company. They moved past a series of two-person officer's cabins. Meetra paused and walked up to a door on her right.

"Are you all right?" asked Kreia.

"I just need a second," Meetra answered, "this was my room."

"This was your room?" said Atton, startled, "when?"

"Before the droid drugged me and I woke up on Peragus," replied Meetra.

"We do not have much time," said Kreia. "Whatever you intend to do, do it quickly."

Meetra nodded and turned to Atton. "Here, take this." She handed over the rucksack with the space suit inside. Atton nodded and slung the pack. Meetra headed into her cabin. She had been traveling light for years, and hadn't unpacked into her footlocker. She took off the miner's work boots from Peragus and slipped on her own; they were more flexible, with non-skid soles, excellent for hiking or fighting. She retrieved her knapsack with her clothing and sundries. Finally, she picked up her swords: a long and short pair, single-edged, with a slight curve to the blade. They weren't special, but they were well-made, and Meetra found it comforting to defend herself with familiar weapons. She left the empty tool belt behind, slipped the torch into her knapsack, and buckled on the swords. She stepped back into the hallway and nodded. "Let's go."

The corridor led past the armory and med bay at the back of the ship. Unfortunately, the armory was magnetically sealed. Meetra passed by the medical bay, but the corridor was blocked by a heavy blast door. She pointed back the way they had come. "Come on-we can bypass the blast door by going through the medical bay." They opened the door; the medical bay was well-lit on emergency power. The two long walls were lined with kolto tanks; a special tank in the center of the room allowed surgery while a subject was still immersed. The surgical tank was shattered; it looked as if something had broken out from inside.

They were just inside the room when Kreia stopped. "It is important to remember one thing, when one is stalking a blind warrior," she said quietly. She spun, parried the attacks of two more assassins, and smoothly cut them down. "Invisibility gives you no advantage." Atton's eyes widened and he began firing, shattering the kolto tanks. The sweet-smelling liquid rushed out onto the floor; disturbances showed six pairs of invisible feet. The assassins realized that their ambush was blown and decloaked. Meetra drew her swords and advanced.

The first pair came at Meetra. She kicked one backwards and focused on the other. He swung at her ribs. She parried downward and stabbed her attacker in the upper chest. Atton shot the one she had knocked back before he could recover. The other four came all at once; one went after Kreia and another leapt over them to attack Atton, leaving Meetra in another one-on-two. She drove them both back with rapid, furious slashes. One counterattacked with a lateral swing. Meetra parried and slashed at her head, but the second assassin caught the attack on his staff. Meetra kicked him in the ribs, sending him into the wall. She spun to attack the first assassin, who swung for her knees. Meetra blocked downward with her short blade and took the assassin's head off. The second assassin was behind her and grabbed Meetra in a rear choke, staff across her throat. Meetra shifted her swords to reverse grip and slammed backward, slicing into her attacker's liver and kidneys before severing his spine.

Kreia deftly blocked strike after strike. Her opponent left himself open, and Kreia finished him with a lightning-quick lunge. Atton sidestepped an attack and threw a quick punch-kick combo to the warrior's midsection. The assassin responded with a hard vertical swing. Atton grabbed the staff and pivoted, throwing the assassin over his shoulder. The assassin landed on the jagged edges of a broken kolto tube and was cut to ribbons.

Meetra checked the medical logs. HK-50 had used the med droid to drug her here, under the pretense of required immunizations. More importantly, Meetra found out how the _Harbinger_ had been taken.

The cruiser had been en route to Telos. They had received a distress call from the _Ebon Hawk_ , which was under attack by a Sith destroyer. While en route, they began experiencing system failures, no doubt sabotage by the HK assassin. When they arrived, both ships were floating in space. The cruiser had boarded the Sith ship first; it was seemingly empty but for one dead Sith. The _Ebon Hawk_ had been towed in for inspection; that's when things went from bad to worse. The Sith assassins had boarded the cruiser while cloaked, and begun taking out the crew. The 'dead' Sith had been feigning, and broke out of the tube just before autopsy. The logs cut off abruptly. Meetra felt a chill. _That Sith Lord is likely still on board. We've got to get off this ship!_ She led the way through the medical bay to another door and back into the corridor on the far side of the closed blast door. It was a short walk to the turbolift to the cruiser's lower deck.

* * *

The lift opened, and the trio stepped out into the _Harbinger_ 's engine deck. The whole deck was dark, with the emergency glow panels providing the only light. The corridors were being used as extra storage; crates of machine parts and other supplies sat here and there, throwing crazy shadows in the flickering light. The place was full-on creepy. Meetra began leading the way aft. They had gone about twenty meters when Atton stopped. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Meetra glanced at him, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Don't you feel it?" he asked. "Something's gonna get real wrong, real quick."

Meetra moistened her lips. "We'll have to be careful, then. But we have to keep moving."

"All right, but don't say I didn't warn ya." Atton drew his laser and looked around warily. "Trust me, when it comes to staying alive, I'm rarely wrong about these things."

Meetra pressed ahead. _He doesn't sound like he's just jumpy, but how can he be anything else?_ As she approached the door to the engine room, the hairs rose on the back of her neck. _Now_ I've _got a bad feeling about this!_ Meetra took two more steps and felt her guts twist. There was no question-it was a pulse of the dark side. Meetra turned to look back, as did Atton and Kreia. Atton cursed: The Sith Lord from the med bay logs stood at the far end of the corridor. He wore black pants and boots; his exposed skin was grey and heavily scarred, and his right eye was milky-white and blind. He began walking slowly towards them.

Kreia readied her vibrocutter. "This battle is mine alone. I am not defenseless." She stepped back through the door into the dark hallway. The Sith stopped and stood waiting. Kreia turned to face them. "He cannot kill what he cannot see, and power has blinded him long ago. _Run_. I shall be along shortly." She took another step toward the Sith and seemed to vanish in the irregular shadows. The door shut and sealed.

There was nothing Meetra could do-she turned away and headed into the engine room. She found a console and opened the propulsion system inspection hatches. Meetra moved to the hatch, waving for Atton to follow. He hung back, shaking his head. "Tell me you're joking. We're not going to cross back into the Peragus facility through the fuel line-that's crazy!"

Meetra shrugged. "It's the only way to get around the sealed door and into the hangar where the _Ebon Hawk_ is."

"Alright," said Atton, "but I know I'm going to regret this." He followed Meetra into the engine section.

Meetra was ducking into the fuel line itself when incredible, icy pain shot through her left hand. Kreia cried out inside her mind, and Meetra shrieked and fell to her knees.

Atton ran up next to her. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Meetra said nothing; her whole body shook and her face was drawn and pale.

"Dammit, hold on," said Atton, lifting Meetra to her feet. "It's only a little further. Don't give up on me now!" Meetra took a deep breath and flexed her hand. The pain cleared, and she was able to stand easily.

"What happened to you?" asked Atton.

"Kreia," Meetra gasped. "I think she was wounded… badly."

"Huh?" Atton blinked, confused. "How do you know that?"

"I… feel it, through the Force," Meetra answered.

Atton took her arm gently. "Look, if she's in pain, then that pain's buying us time we can't afford to waste." He looked back over his shoulder. "Especially if sleeps-with-vibroblades gets tired of playing with her and decides to use us for practice next."

"All right," Meetra sighed, "let's go."

* * *

The fuel pipe was dark and very cramped, but it got them off the ship. Meetra could tell that they were back inside the Peragus facility when the pipe widened slightly. She pressed on, searching for the maintenance hatch. An object appeared, throwing odd shadows in the beam from Atton's light. "It's a utility droid," said Atton, recognizing the shape. "Looks like it's been hit with an ion charge and dumped here."

 _This must be T3-M4._ Meetra reached down and powered the droid on. T3 rotated his dome from side to side and emitted a series of bewildered honks. "I know," said Meetra, nodding. "We ran into the 'protocol droid' earlier. He attacked us, too."

T3 looked down and warbled mournfully. "Don't blame yourself," Meetra said gently. "If you hadn't gotten us out of the administration level, we'd have never made it this far."

The astromech tooted and chirped happily. T3 turned and picked up a small metal case with his manipulator arm, then tucked the case into his cargo compartment. His weapons array lifted and lowered and T3 let out a sharp whistle. Meetra nodded. "Come on, then-we have to hurry." They left the fuel line and found themselves in the lower level of the fuel depot, on the far side of the containment fields. Meetra got moving with the others behind her.

One of the large, clawed mining droids stepped out from behind a corner. Atton coolly drew his laser and fired. The bolt splashed harmlessly against the droid's shield. Atton cursed and ducked back into the pipe as a second biped and three crawlers followed the first; all were shielded. T3 snorted and rolled forward. He fired his blasters and shock arm simultaneously, destroying one crawler and dropping the shields on another. Atton popped out and finished off the damaged crawler as Meetra attacked the bipeds. The droids' plating was designed to protect against impact, not razor-sharp blades. Meetra hacked through the thin durasteel, severing hydraulics and electrical cables. Both droids crashed to the ground, and T3 finished off the last crawler with another burst of blaster fire.

Meetra sheathed her swords. "Let's get to the ship and away from here." She found the ramp to the upper level, and activated the manual shutdown for the containment field. They ran along the catwalk and through the door into the hangar control room.

Atton raced to the hangar door. He tried to activate the door control, then slammed his fist in frustration. "This door's magnetically sealed. I can't believe this! The ship's right out there, and we can't get to it."

T3 rolled forward and beeped enthusiastically. "What?" said Meetra, "the console?"

"Huh?" asked Atton, "what is that piece of junk saying?"

"He says he can open the door," said Meetra, "he just needs to access the hangar terminal up on the platform."

Atton blinked. "How can you even understand that noise?"

"I served with a lot of utility droids in the…" Meetra hesitated and looked down, "well, many years ago."

Atton shrugged noncommittally. "All right, well, if he can get the door open, then don't let me stop him."

T3 honked and rolled up to the console. He removed the case from his compartment and opened the console panel. The little droid retrieved a conduit from the case and used it to reconnect the console and open the door. Meetra was the first one through, with Atton and T3 close behind her. Four bipeds and a half-dozen crawlers gathered along the final hallway, blocking their path. Meetra dug deep, drawing on the Force as best she could. She rushed the droids in an impossibly fast sprint, tearing into the bipeds. She slashed this way and that, taking the droids apart in the blink of an eye. Atton and T3 fired into the crawlers, wrecking them.

As the pair moved to catch up with Meetra, T3 shrilled warningly. Meetra glanced up at the ceiling. "He's picking up a large force entering the station from the cruiser. We need to move!" They ran down the corridor and into the hangar. The _Ebon Hawk_ 's ramp was already down; Atton ran all the way to the cockpit. T3 stopped at the ramp and opened fire on the Sith troopers which were rushing into the hangar behind them.

Meetra followed Atton into the _Hawk_ 's cockpit. "Quick!" he cried. "We're going to need some time to fire up the engines." He pointed her to a swivel seat against the cockpit back wall. "Let's give the laser turret a workout."

Meetra dropped into the chair and found controls for a heavy repeating blaster in a concealed mounting under the nose. She began traversing the turret, firing into the advancing Sith. They fired back, but their rifles couldn't even dent the ship's hull plating. The troopers were at least platoon strength, and ran at the ship, trying to lower the ramp and board. Meetra laid down a withering fire, but there were too many Sith, coming at the ship from multiple directions. They began to hear scraping and pounding as the Sith tried to get inside. There was a muffled explosion, followed by a whine. The ramp hydraulics had been blown; the ramp was opening slowly as the pistons leaked. T3 rolled into the cockpit and plugged into the navigation console, taking over control of the turret. The little droid tooted urgently. Meetra nodded and headed aft, through the hold toward the entryway. She dove to the deck as a blaster bolt barely missed her head-the Sith were already inside!

Meetra was too drained to use the Force again, so she threw her short sword, hitting one Sith in the throat. She charged in, stabbing the second before he could swing his carbine around. She retrieved her blade and headed for the ramp. A trooper was coming in with a double-blade at the ready. Meetra parried and took his head off with both swords. She began turning the crank to close the ramp manually. She had it halfway closed when another Sith scrambled through the opening. Meetra couldn't let the crank go-the ramp would just drop again. She kicked at him awkwardly, holding the ramp half-closed.

The Sith had raised his rifle to finish her when a blade burst out of his chest. The trooper gurgled as Kreia pulled the vibrocutter out his back. The old woman reached down to throw the body off of the ramp. The left side of her robes was stained with blood: Kreia's left hand had been severed at the wrist. "Kreia?" Meetra asked, surprised to see her alive. "Your hand-what happened?"

Kreia shook her head. "There is no time-we must leave."

Meetra nodded and cranked the ramp shut. She hammered the intercom switch. "Ramp is sealed-take off." She led the way back to the cockpit as Atton lifted the freighter off. They accelerated out of the bay and zoomed away from the station. Behind them, the _Harbinger_ decoupled from the docking arm. The cruiser gave chase, firing everything it had. The _Ebon Hawk_ twisted through the asteroid field with the Sith in hot pursuit.

Atton worked the controls frantically, trying to avoid the turbolaser fire while keeping clear of the asteroids. "If they hit us, we're dead! But if they keep missing us, we're dead! That's great odds." T3 beeped and chirped, still plugged in to the sensor panel. Atton glared. "Somebody shut that trash compactor up!"

Meetra looked out the side window from the copilot's seat. "Keep as much distance between them and us as you can."

Atton glanced at her. "I'm doing all I can, and that's not enough. What did you do to make these guys so mad?" He looked back out the viewport. "Now either they hit us and destroy us, or they hit an asteroid and make the whole field go nova."

Meetra took a deep breath. _That cruiser is a much slower ship. We open the range, and we can get clear of the field and jump away._ "Just do your best to keep your distance-we'll get out of this yet."

"What of the asteroids?" Kreia asked sharply. "They can be destroyed by us as well as them, can they not?"

Atton frowned. "That'll take out the whole field, the colony, and maybe us. We might not even be able to jump to hyperspace in time."

Kreia crossed her arms. "Then we die here. Choose now."

T3 tooted fearfully; Meetra set her jaw. "No-there might be someone still alive in the facility."

"Hold on!" called Atton, working the helm feverishly. "This is going to get a little rocky." He brought the ship into a shallow dive and came right, then broke hard back left. The _Ebon Hawk_ zipped between two of the larger asteroids. Atton banked right and broke the cruiser's line of sight. The _Harbinger_ 's gunners tried to anticipate the freighter coming out from behind the tumbling rock and hit an asteroid. It exploded, and the debris touched off secondary detonations. Atton swore and punched the engines to full power, weaving through the asteroids towards the edge of the field. They flew clear and jumped to hyperspace as the explosions reached the facility.

* * *

 **A/N: IMO, KotOR II does more with "I have a bad feeling about this" than any other Star Wars story. What do you think so far? Leave a review and let me know!**


	5. Telos, part one

**Disclaimer: Kreia's compelling presence is due to a powerful performance by Sarah Kestelman.**

* * *

Atton stood out of his seat. "Well, now that we just killed a planet, maybe one of you can tell me what's going on." He tilted his head to glare at Meetra. "Because between assassin droids, a Sith Lord that looks like he sleeps with vibroblades, and being target practice for a Republic warship, I was better off in my cell."

Kreia sighed. "The Republic warship was the _Harbinger_. It was seized on its way to Telos by the Sith." She turned to Meetra. "They sought you, Jedi."

Meetra put her hands on her hips. "Why was the _Harbinger_ going to Telos?"

"To aid in the recovery effort there," replied Kreia. "Many roads lead to Telos-including ours."

Atton snorted. "Not like we have much of a choice, the Peragus astrogation charts being what they are."

Meetra's mouth thinned. "Care to explain how you tracked me down?"

Kreia took a step and leaned against the wall. "You were difficult to find, but… coincidence was on our side. When I learned that you were on the vessel, I knew the Sith would not be far behind. When we intercepted the _Harbinger_ , it was crippled, drifting in space. It was a simple matter to board the vessel and rescue you. Unknown to me, however, the Sith were already on board. Just as we made the jump to hyperspace, they fired upon us, nearly destroying the _Ebon Hawk_."

Meetra nodded. "So why are these Sith looking for me?"

"Because you are the last of the Jedi," said Kreia simply. "Once you are dead, then they have won."

Meetra blinked. "But I was exiled from the Jedi Order."

Kreia shook her head. "Exile or not, the Sith believe you to be a Jedi Knight, and that is all that matters."

"What happened to the Order?" asked Meetra.

"The Jedi Civil War destroyed the Jedi," said Kreia. "By the war's end, barely a hundred Jedi remained. Many fell in battle… and many more were seduced by Revan's teachings." She turned her sightless gaze out the viewport to the mottled sky of hyperspace. "The Jedi Academy on Dantooine is nothing more than a crater that echoes with the ghosts of dead Jedi. And the Jedi Temple on Coruscant lies empty. The waters in the Room of a Thousand Fountains have fallen still, in reverence to the fallen Jedi… and those now lost. Many Jedi blamed the teachings of the Jedi Masters for Revan's fall… and the civil war that followed."

 _Well, that sounds familiar._ Meetra folded her arms while she thought. "If any survivors still live, we need to warn them."

Kreia frowned. "Perhaps, but they are Jedi no longer. If the Sith have not already slain them, then they will not help you, nor can you help them."

"Then how do we stop the Sith?" asked Meetra.

Kreia looked upward while she thought. "That is not an easy question to answer. This threat is greater than you know… and I do not believe it is a battle that can be fought."

Meetra nodded. "So what do you think we should do?"

"Look-enough with the 'we,' already," muttered Atton.

"We cannot hope to triumph against them alone," Kreia said thoughtfully. "To stop them, you will need weapons, allies, and… a teacher. In the end, I fear it may not be enough."

"What do you mean?" asked Meetra.

Kreia stepped close to Meetra. Her sightless gaze seemed to pierce right through the younger woman. "You fought in the Mandalorian Wars, and it cost you everything. Are you willing to sacrifice as much again?"

Meetra nodded firmly. "If evil is not fought, then we sacrifice the galaxy."

Kreia laughed derisively. "Your fool's words echo of a Jedi-you have much to learn." She sighed, and held her stump with her right hand. "But we have spoken long enough, and my wound pains me. If you have other questions, find me in the crew quarters." She turned to leave.

"Hey, don't stop your long, boring rants on my account," Atton quipped, "I was just getting sleepy-eyed."

Kreia marched out of the cockpit. "Also, in private, we will be mercifully free from the opinions of imbeciles and fools."

Atton turned to Meetra. "Look, uh, not like I care or anything, but you might want to go check on our passenger-especially with that hand of hers."

Meetra nodded. "You're right, she may need help-can you handle things up here?"

"We're on autopilot until we hit Telos," said Atton. "Until then, the droid could fly this thing."

"I'll go check on her, then," said Meetra, as she headed aft.

* * *

Meetra found Kreia kneeling in the middle of the port dormitory, meditating. She stood when the exile walked in. "Have you come for more answers? There is little left to give."

Meetra reflexively grabbed her left wrist. "When you lost your hand… I felt it, too."

"That does not surprise me-any more than you hearing my thoughts when we were apart," said Kreia evenly. "The pain, however, was unexpected; if I could, I would have shielded you from it." She ran her hand along her stump, channeling healing energy. Meetra could feel the last of the cold leaving her own arm. "It seems the Force flows easily between us," said Kreia. "Now that we know, I suspect our minds are prepared enough to shield each other from the pain."

Meetra frowned. _It must be a tremendous Force bond._ "If I felt the loss of your hand, what would have happened if you had died?"

"I do not know," Kreia said. "I would not wish to test it… nor should you."

"I have no plans to," said Meetra soberly. "Something has changed-I can feel the Force again."

"Indeed? And was it the same as before?" asked Kreia.

Meetra shook her head. "No. It is like a whisper, at the edge of hearing."

Kreia crossed her arms. "If my suspicions are correct, perhaps the damage the Jedi Council did was not as permanent as they thought. It is not an easy thing, to cut one off from the Force."

"I don't believe the Jedi would do such a thing," said Meetra haltingly.

"What did you believe?" asked Kreia, raising her eyebrows. "That you suddenly lost your connection with the Force without reason?"

"I thought the Mandalorian Wars was the cause." Meetra stared at her feet. "I did much that I am not proud of."

"Such a thing has been done before," Kreia said softly, "when Jedi have pronounced sentence on their own… and exiled them, as they did you."

Meetra had a thought, but she kept it to herself. "Can my connection to the Force be healed?"

Kreia stroked her stump with her hand as she thought. "Our link… may have had other consequences. Perhaps you hear the Force again distantly, through me. If so, then there is hope. I may be able to teach you, train you to feel the Force again." The old woman smiled strangely. "We are a sad pair, you and I, to defend the galaxy against such a thing." She extended her hand, and Meetra took it.

"I had other questions." Meetra said slowly. "You spoke of the Jedi Civil War-what happened while I was wandering the Rim?"

Kreia spoke for more than an hour, summarizing the last ten years of galactic history. With the Mandalorians defeated, Revan and Malak had vanished beyond the Outer Rim. About a year later, they returned as Sith Lords, leading their fleet against the Republic and the Jedi. Revan was eventually captured, and returned to the Order, finally meeting his former friend in battle to end the war. The Jedi had been shattered by the conflict, and its aftermath. The Order was gone-every last Jedi had disappeared from the galaxy. The Republic itself was on the brink of collapse: "The Jedi Order was the heart that sustained its sickness," said Kreia, "now the Jedi are lost, we shall see how long the Republic can survive."

Meetra paused, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of Revan and Malak turning on the Republic they defied the Council to protect. "This is a lot to take in at once. I need time to reflect on this."

Kreia nodded. "I would see to that fool in the cockpit, and remind him of our destination. I would not want him attempting to veer from Telos."

"He's not a fool," Meetra mused, "but he does feel odd to me."

"He is a fool and an imbecile; his potential lies downwards, not up." Kreia's voice was thick with contempt and suspicion. "Watch that one. His thoughts are slippery… I do not trust him, and nor should you. Such a man serves himself first, and his 'allies' next." Meetra could tell that Kreia wasn't going to be convinced. She turned and headed back to the cockpit.

Atton heard her walk in and turned in his seat. "How's our passenger? She still aging?"

Meetra shrugged. "She seems fine, she just needs some rest."

"Well, she sure could use it," Atton grumped. "It might do wonders for her mood, too. She's lucky she's a Jedi, or someone would've killed her years ago."

Meetra's brow furrowed. "I don't think Kreia is a Jedi." _Then what is she?_

"Then she must be royalty," said Atton derisively, "because she's got to be Queen of the Galaxy to bark out orders like that. Or maybe she's senile."

"Look, ease off on the insults," said Meetra sharply. "She was wounded helping us escape, remember?"

Atton raised his hands. "Whoa, all right, all right! Don't get mad at me. Hey, I didn't ask her to stay behind and get her hand cut off, okay?" He closed his eyes and sighed. "I mean-I appreciate what she did and all, but she could stand to lay off the insults herself, you know?"

Meetra nodded. "Are we still on course for Telos?"

"Like we have a choice?" snorted Atton. "It's the only place Peragus had logged in their astrogation charts. The navicomputer on this ship is voice-locked, so we'll have to get charts from the ports we pass through." He looked out the cockpit window. "If you thought Peragus was dead, then Telos is a dying world they're trying to breathe back to life."

"Thanks." Meetra turned to leave.

"So… what happened?" asked Atton.

Meetra stopped in the doorway; she didn't turn around. "To what?"

"Don't give me that," Atton said. "There were plenty of times back on Peragus when a lightsaber would have been helpful. So, where's yours?"

Meetra shook her head. "Exiles aren't allowed to keep their lightsabers."

"Oh, yeah?" replied Atton, "I thought a Jedi was supposed to be married to their lightsaber. Guess I heard wrong. Were you a single hilt or one of those double-bladed Jedi?"

"Neither." Meetra leaned against the doorframe, looking out into the swirling blues of hyperspace. "I carried a shoto in my off hand; I'm an expert in the fifth saber form, Shien."

Atton grunted. "I should have expected that. Lots of Jedi in the Mandalorian Wars used two sabers or double-blades. It's more aggressive, gives you more slaughter per swing." He raised an eyebrow. "They weren't red, were they?"

Meetra felt a pang as she remembered. "They were cyan blades, the color of a tropical ocean."

"Must have been something," mused Atton. "Sure be nice to have them now-might make those Sith think twice before coming after us."

"It is no matter," Meetra shook her head, "they were taken from me long ago."

"All right, forget I said anything," grumbled Atton. He reclined the pilot's seat and shut his eyes. "I'm going to relax until it's time to drop out of hyperspace. You might as well do the same."

Meetra headed back to the port dormitory and lay down. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The chirping intercom woke Meetra; she groaned and fumbled for the switch.

"I decided to let you sleep," Atton said. "We're on approach to Telos; you've got time to freshen up before we land."

Meetra got up and hopped into the refresher. She was still very tired from the escape, but the shower at least made her feel human again. She dried off and donned her own clothes, discarding the miner's jumpsuit. Meetra retained the modest and practical clothing of a Jedi, without the robes. She wore a tan and brown wrap tunic, tan pants, and knee-length brown leather boots. She tied her hair with a simple strip of leather and headed out.

She found Kreia in the medical bay, removing a kolto wrap from her arm. The skin had closed over the stump, and it seemed the pain had passed. "There will be a hospital at Telos," said Meetra. "We can get you a prosthetic."

Kreia frowned. "This is a minor limitation, another obstacle to be overcome. I do not rely on machines-that is true weakness."

"Suit yourself," said Meetra, shrugging. "In any case, we'll be landing soon." There was a sizzling sound from behind her. She followed the sound through the starboard cargo bay, which had been renovated into a workshop and garage. T3 was on the far side, repairing the hydraulics for the entrance ramp.

The little droid stopped as Meetra walked up to him. He tooted pleasantly. "Good morning to you, as well," Meetra replied. "I was wondering-how did you get here, T3?"

The astromech twittered a short response; Meetra rolled her eyes. "I know you were on the _Ebon Hawk_ with Kreia, but where did this ship come from?"

T3 warbled tentatively and Meetra frowned. "You're deliberately avoiding answering-why?" T3 hesitated for a very long moment, then rotated his head and projected a hologram of a woman. Meetra blinked in surprise, recognizing Bastila Shan. When Meetra left to follow Revan against the Mandalorians, Bastila had been a promising young Padawan. She was much older in the hologram, perhaps in her early thirties. She still wore the bodysuit and drape of a Jedi from Talravin.

"T3, you have been with us since Taris," said the recording. "Without you, we would never have escaped that place… and for that, I thank you. I'm leaving this message inside you because I have seen glimpses of the future, and the bond he and I share does not allow him to hide everything from me. More of his memories have returned, and they trouble him. He has remembered something, something on the edge of the galaxy, and he believes that he must go there to end it. But I'm afraid for him… afraid that he may not return."

Bastila took a breath. "I need you to be the beacon, T3. If he is lost out there, on the edge of the galaxy, if he finds whatever terrible thing he has seen, then he may not survive. If he doesn't make it back, then I need you to return to the Republic, find help. If you cannot find me, then seek out other Jedi, or the Republic…" Her voice gave out for a moment. "I can't lose him, even if he believes he is protecting me."

The hologram faded; Meetra stood still for a moment, lost in thought. _Hard to believe Bastila fell in love. She always kept so strictly to the Code…_ T3 tooted sadly. Meetra looked down at him. "Who is she talking about? Is he your old master?"

The robot warbled and chirped. "More than a master, a friend," said Meetra. "Why did he leave you two behind?"

T3 beeped a reply. "He left all he cared about behind. And you came back to find help… and found Kreia, and me. The navicomputer is voice-locked to keep anyone from using its records to follow him." Meetra frowned. "Then, why hide the message from me?"

The astromech twittered softly; Meetra nodded. "You aren't certain that I _can_ help." She tilted her head. "You know more, correct? You just can't tell me until you're sure?"

T3 tooted again. "Well, we'll see," said Meetra. "In the meantime, the Sith are returning. You are quite a capable little droid; I'm glad to have your help in this fight."

The little droid chirped happily and rolled away to work on other repairs. Meetra smiled and headed up to the cockpit. Atton was sipping a cup of caf as he entered trajectory data into the helm console. "Hey, there," he said. "Bay Control just gave me a berth; we're on final for Dock Module 126." The pilot hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating an insulated bottle and a stack of plasfoam cups next to the navigation console.

Meetra poured herself a cup and sat down in the copilot's seat. She took a sip, then looked up and gaped. Meetra remembered Telos as a planet of verdant landscapes. Now, the world was mostly blasted red wasteland. There were several rectangular patches of green. A large space station hovered in low orbit, looking like scaffolding over the surface. "By the Force, what happened to the planet?"

Atton shrugged. "The Sith happened. A year into the Jedi Civil War, Malak ordered an assault on the system. The bombardment killed millions, and left the planet uninhabitable." He pointed to the space. "The Republic is trying to fix the planet-Citadel Station was the primary buyer of Peragus' fuel shipments."

Meetra gazed out the window at Telos' devastated surface. She said nothing, but thought of the men she had followed to war. _Revan, Malak, what happened to you? We disobeyed the Order to protect people! How could you turn on them like this?_

Atton guided the freighter into Docking Bay 1 and set down. Meetra was first down the ramp with the others close behind. A woman called to them over the PA loudspeaker. "Attention-this is Citadel Station Bay Control, Dock Module 126. Please remain where you are. Lieutenant Dol Grenn will arrive shortly to meet you. That is all."

Atton glanced worriedly up at the control booth. "I don't like the sound of that. If they think we caused the explosion… Uh oh." He shifted nervously as four armed police in navy, white, and gold armor entered the docking bay. "Here comes the welcoming party. They may not know what happened, so don't blow it."

The lead officer was a middle-aged man, his swept-back brown hair starting to turn grey at the temples. Three officers stood behind him with rifles. "I'm Lieutenant Grenn, Telos Security Force. I'm under orders to take you into custody in regards to the destruction of the Peragus Mining Facility."

Meetra nodded. "Are we under arrest?"

"You haven't been formally charged," said Grenn, "but you will be placed under house arrest pending the results of our investigation. Due to the nature of the investigation, I have no specific timetable to offer you. In the meantime, your ship and any droids will have to be given over for safekeeping."

T3 hummed nervously and backed up slightly. Grenn looked down. "Yes, that includes you. You are a droid, so you will be detained." He looked back to Meetra. "In addition, we will have to take your personal arms and armor until the completion of our inquiry."

"Will we be able to get our gear back?" asked Meetra.

Grenn pursed his lips. "If you are cleared of any involvement, your personal effects will be returned to you. You will be held briefly in the TSF station until living quarters can be arranged, at which point you will be placed under house arrest." He fixed Meetra with a serious stare. "Do you understand?"

"I do," Meetra replied, "I'll cooperate."

"Good," said Grenn. He gestured, and two of the TSF officers slung their rifles and stepped forward. "My men will relieve you of any arms and armor. Please follow me."

Atton rolled his eyes as he unbuckled his mining laser. "Tell me I'm not going to jail again."

* * *

 **A/N: Yeah, Atton's going to jail again. Seems to happen a lot...**


	6. Telos, part two

**Disclaimer: Lucasarts and Obsidian Entertainment created the rock on which I built this fanfic.**

* * *

TSF officers took the _Hawk_ to the TSF impound dock with T3 secured aboard. The crew's meager stock of gear was confiscated, except for their clothes. The group was taken in a shuttle to TSF headquarters in Entertainment Module 081. The TSF officers ordered them into holding cells. "You'll be held here briefly," said Grenn. "Living quarters are being arranged for you and your companions as we speak. Someone will return shortly to escort you to an apartment in Residential Module 082."

Meetra was less than thrilled with the force cage, but decided it would be foolish to antagonize the police. "I understand." Grenn nodded curtly and led his officers out of the detention area.

"Well, we might be here for a while." Atton sat down, careful not to touch the force field. "Might as well get comfortable." Kreia and Meetra sat as well, trying to relax as much as they could.

It was perhaps half an hour later when Kreia stood up suddenly. "Someone is coming."

The doors slid open and a male TSF officer walked in. "So, this is the 'Last of the Jedi.' I must admit, I'm a little disappointed."

"What's going on?" asked Meetra.

"The Exchange has a bounty on Jedi, you know," the man said smoothly. "You're worth quite a bit of money."

 _That's no policeman, or he's dirty._ Meetra's mind raced as she considered her predicament.

"The Exchange, huh?" Atton raised his eyebrows mockingly. "I'm pretty sure some two-bit pistol jockey like yourself isn't one of them."

"Eh?" the man replied, "I'm more than skilled enough to work for the Exchange."

"You bounty hunters couldn't even win a fair fight." Atton spat, making his force cage sizzle. "You're the cheapest, most worthless mercenary scum in the galaxy. I'd hire a Mandalorian over your filth in a second."

The bounty hunter glared at Atton. "No Mandalorian could match my skills. No Mandalorian could have been clever enough to infiltrate this station, taken the identity of one of the guards, then…"

"Then what, overloaded our force cage fields and made it look like an accident?" said Atton scornfully. "You probably don't even have the guts to fight me. Pathetic."

"Don't think overloading your cages had not occurred to me," snapped the hunter. "You're wanted alive, but I doubt anyone will care as long as I bring them your corpse."

"We're in a TSF station," said Meetra. "How do you expect to get away with this?"

"The security cameras have mysteriously shorted out," replied the hunter. "There will be no witnesses to your escape attempt, during which I'll have been forced to kill you. By the time the TSF realize I'm not one of them, I will be far from this place." He walked to the control console, and slid a lever to select Meetra's cell. "Come, 'Jedi.' It is time to die."

"Hey, leave her alone!" called Atton. "You want a fight? Then try me, if you've got the guts."

The bounty hunter smiled. "Wait your turn; I shall dispose of you all eventually. An old woman, a fool, and a broken Jedi are no match for my skills." He drew his blaster and aimed it at Meetra's head as he reached for the field release.

Kreia raised her hand subtly and reached out with the Force, sliding the selection lever over to control all the cages. The bounty hunter hit the switch and his eyes widened as all three prisoners were released. He fired at Meetra, who dove aside. The hunter tried to bring his weapon around but Meetra grabbed his gun hand. Two shots went wild in the ensuing struggle; Meetra connected with several punches to the midsection. The hunter slammed Meetra's arm into a wall and got his gun free. He clubbed her in the head twice and shoved. Meetra staggered backwards and blood trickled into her eyes; the hunter leveled his blaster.

Atton knocked the pistol flying with a roundhouse kick. He tackled the hunter to the ground and the two men grappled. They rolled and Atton found himself on the bottom. The hunter started landing blows to Atton's upper body. Atton shielded his head as best he could, but took a fearful pounding nonetheless. The hunter raised his fist overhead for a big swing and Atton punched him in the kidneys. The hunter slumped and Atton grabbed him. He pulled down and forward and threw the hunter into a wall; the man fell dead with a broken neck. Atton rolled to one knee and got to his feet.

The door burst open; Grenn and two officers ran in with weapons out. "The security cameras ha- what?!" Grenn stopped short. "What's going on here?"

"Man down!" shouted one of the officers. "Quick, call a medic!"

Grenn's voice was tense and dangerous. "All right, 'Jedi.' I want you to back up slowly, hands in front of you, into the force cage." Both officers covered the trio with their blasters. "Cooperate, and we won't have to gun you down."

The female officer gripped her rifle tightly. "Come on, Lieutenant! They've already killed… eh…" She trailed off as she looked down at the dead man. "Who is that? Is that Batu Rem?"

Meetra met Grenn's eyes, and spoke slowly and clearly. "He was trying to assassinate me, for the bounty on Jedi."

"Rem's no assassin!" snapped the male officer.

"Batu Rem is on leave," said Grenn angrily. "He shouldn't even be on the station. This man isn't him."

Meetra relaxed, now that the TSF was unlikely to simply shoot her. "How did he manage to sneak in here?"

The lieutenant grimaced. "That's something we're going to have to look into. I can tell you that it can't have been easy."

"What's going to happen now?" asked Meetra.

Grenn folded his arms. "We've arranged for an apartment in Residential Module 082. You'll stay there under house arrest until our investigation of the Peragus matter is complete. You'll be under TSF protection. I'll personally clear any visitors to your quarters, and we'll investigate this incident to the best of our ability." He gestured to the TSF policewoman. "Officer, get Lieutenant Yima a report of this incident. She'll look into this." Grenn turned back to Meetra and the others. "The rest of you, come with me. We'll escort you to the apartment in 082 immediately." He led the way out of the police station.

* * *

It was a short walk across the connector to Module 82. The apartment block was at the west end. Their apartment was bare-bones, a single large room with a food synthesizer on one side and the door to the 'fresher on the other. The only furnishings were a square table, three dining chairs, and three beds. "These will serve as your quarters for the duration of your house arrest," said Grenn.

"Well, this is a step up from a force cage at least," muttered Atton.

"How long will we be here?" Meetra asked.

"I can't say," said Grenn. "We have a ship examining what's left of the Peragus facility now, so your stay might be brief. We'll keep you informed."

Meetra nodded. "And what about security?"

"Two officers will be stationed outside at all times," the lieutenant replied. "Again, I'll clear any visitors. There won't be another 'incident.'"

Atton snorted. "But just to be on the safe side, why don't you leave us a blaster or two?"

Grenn shook his head, but Meetra thought she saw a trace of a smile. He turned and left the apartment; two TSF officers with blaster rifles stood outside to guard the door.

"This isn't good." Atton began pacing in front of the large window. "We've got to get off this station."

Meetra frowned. "Why the rush? I was coming here anyway, before the _Harbinger_ was hit."

"What do you think the TSF is going to find at Peragus?" Atton snapped. "That could bring the Sith…" He trailed off and walked to the window. "You know what, forget it. As long as we're trapped here, it doesn't matter."

Meetra cocked her head. "What do you think, Kreia?"

The old woman shook her head. "We cannot stay in one place for too long. But our path has brought us here for a reason." She looked over at Meetra. "I must meditate on this. In the meantime, we should rest."

"Yeah, you go ahead and meditate." Atton kicked off his boots and flopped down on one of the beds. "As for me, I could use some sleep."

Kreia sat cross-legged on the floor. After a moment, Meetra did the same. She closed her eyes and tried to drift on the currents of the Force. She could feel the energy around her, but only faintly. _My connection to the Force is back, but it is very weak. There was a time I could have felt each life on the station. Hopefully I'll regain my old strength; I will need it to stop the Sith._

* * *

Meetra and Kreia meditated for a few hours; Meetra was eventually able to feel the two TSF officers outside her front door, then people in adjacent apartments. The calm was interrupted by the comm terminal chiming. Meetra went to answer it.

The screen came up to reveal one of the TSF officers who had escorted them from the station. "Excuse me," she said, "You have a caller-Moza, representing the Ithorian planet-restoration interests on Telos. Lieutenant Grenn's cleared him, if you'd like to speak with him."

Meetra glanced at her companions. Atton shrugged and Kreia crossed her arms. She turned back to the camera. "Yes, please send him in."

The door opened. Moza was tall even for an Ithorian-more than two and a quarter meters. He had mottled green-black skin on his back with yellow-green countershading. He walked up to Meetra and bowed his head. "Thank you for seeing me. I am Moza, and I have come to see you on behalf of Chodo Habat, our leader here."

Meetra shook hands. "What does Chodo want with me?"

Moza pressed his fingertips together. "Are you familiar with the restoration project on Telos?"

"No," said Meetra, "can you explain it to me?"

"The surface of Telos was destroyed during the Jedi Civil War a few years ago," Moza said. "This-Citadel Station-is part of the Republic's planetary restoration initiative. Citadel Station uses energy fields to seal off portions of the planet's surface, then generates and controls the weather patterns over each area. Once the weather in a zone is stabilized, new animal and plant life is introduced to restore the ecosystem. Recently, however, we have run into contention with the corporation known as 'Czerka.' Ithorians are well-known as ecologists and agricultural engineers. The Telosian government asked those of my herd to help restore their planet. Things went smoothly at first. The Republic funded us generously, hoping Telos would be a model for the restoration of planets damaged by the war. The funding enabled us to buy flora and fauna from Onderon. Upgrades to Citadel Station's shield network have allowed us to purify and reseed small portions of the surface."

Moza crossed his arms. "Then the troubles began. Republic relations with Onderon began to deteriorate, increasing the purchase and transport costs of our biological materials, and as the station grew, the Telosian Security Force was no longer large enough to police the entire station. Czerka approached the Republic and offered supply and security contracts. Their paramilitary security division now polices two-thirds of Citadel Station. Czerka has integrated themselves into the Telosian political system and economy. They are currently pressing to be awarded our planet restoration contracts. Their efforts hinder our cause greatly, and will have terrible consequences for the planet's ecosystem."

Meetra frowned. "How is Czerka harming the restoration project?"

Moza rubbed the back of his neck. "Czerka recently wrested control of a number of Restoration Zones on the planet's surface from us. These zones began to deteriorate within weeks. If this continues, the restoration process will be brought to a halt, and the Republic will not be willing to continue the funding needed to resurrect it. Telos will remain dead forever."

"Why would Czerka do this?" asked Meetra.

"I wonder that myself," said Moza. "What does one of the largest weapons manufacturers in the galaxy want with planet restoration contracts? Perhaps they seek unrestricted access to Telos' surface, which is normally forbidden. Even we can land only at our established landing sites."

"Czerka Arms is a big-time defense contractor, and unscrupulous as hell," said Atton. "They backed the Sith during the war, and built most of the Sith bases on conquered worlds, using Republic prisoners and slave labor. They greased a lot of wheels in the Senate to be allowed to remain in business after Malak lost."

"They sound like wonderful people," grunted Meetra. "How did they take the Restoration Zones?"

"Through a combination of legal loopholes, purchased political favors, strong-arm tactics, and sabotage," said Moza. "We Ithorians are simply not prepared to deal with such. We are a passive people, we wish only to help restore the natural beauty of Telos."

Meetra nodded. "So, how could I help?"

"Chodo Habat is a powerful priest, our spiritual leader," said Moza. "He sensed something upon your arrival… a disturbance, an echo in the Force. Chodo felt you might be able to help us. He bid me tell you that if you could help heal Telos, it may be possible for him to help heal you."

 _Well, you've got my attention._ "Heal me?" asked Meetra.

Moza shook his head. "I am unclear as to what Chodo means by this. He says the echo he felt upon your arrival suggests that you yourself are damaged. He can feel the pain through the Force."

"Perhaps Chodo Habat should turn his eyes to his own people, if they truly suffer so," said Kreia scornfully.

Moza raised his hands defensively. "Forgive me. I am unclear as to Chodo's message, and I may have related it incorrectly. If this offer of mutual aid interests you, please go to the Ithorian compound here in Residential 082 when you are able. Chodo Habat would be most pleased to see you."

Meetra nodded. "I'll speak with your leader when I'm freed."

"Ah, this pleases me," said Moza happily. "Perhaps we will speak later then. Farewell." He mate another short bow and left the apartment.

Kreia walked over to her bed. "Now, perhaps, we will be able to rest uninterrupted." Meetra intended to browse the HoloNet to catch up on current events, but just after lunch, the terminal chimed again. Meetra rolled her eyes and took the call.

A GE3 protocol droid appeared on the screen. "Good day. I am B-4D4, administrative assistant for Czerka Corporation's Citadel Station Branch. I am attempting to connect you with Executive Officer Jana Lorso. May I put you through?"

Meetra hesitated. _I should at least hear what she has to say._ "Yes, go ahead."

"Thank you," said the droid pleasantly. "I will connect you now. Good day."

The screen went dark a moment. The new image was of a Mirialan woman in her late thirties. "Thank you for accepting my call. As my assistant no doubt informed you, I am Jana Lorso."

"Why are you calling?" asked Meetra, "What do you want from me?"

"I understand that you were approached by an Ithorian earlier," said Lorso. "Doubtless he tried to obtain your help, attempting to purchase it with imposed guilt and veiled threats."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "Imposed guilt?"

Lorso nodded. "Yes. They play at being downtrodden innocents, having come to you because of these 'Jedi' rumors that are going around the station. That's of no interest to me. The Jedi and your standing with them have no bearing on this discussion. I believe you're a person of influence. Someone I'd like on my side, rather than aiding the Ithorians, whose quasi-mysticism and bumbling foolishness is standing in the way of progress and profit." Lorso laid her hands flat on her desk. "I'm not asking for your help, though. I'm offering you a job. Work for Czerka, and be handsomely rewarded."

"Convince me," said Meetra. "How are the Ithorians in the way of things?"

Lorso spread her hands. "Their plans for the restoration of Telos are aimless and meandering. 'Restore the sacred, natural beauty of Telos,' they say. Just what does that mean? How does that apply to natural resource development and consumption? The proper planning of urban sectors? Resorts and tourism?" She shook her head. "Oh sure, Habat's intentions are good enough, but good intentions won't restore Telos. His expensive policy of relocating biological specimens from Onderon without any planning will doom Telos in the end. I don't think Habat even realizes that at their current pace, they will run out of funding before even half of the Restoration Zones are up and running. If it continues, they'll drive the Republic into irreparable debt, and have nothing to show for it but a few meadows and a weather generator the size of a small continent." Lorso put her hands on her hips. "Czerka plans to use some of the planet's own resources to help fund the restoration. These extra funds will greatly improve the project in the long run."

Meetra nodded. "So, the Ithorians want to restore Telos' ecosystems very close to their previous state, but their logistical planning is lacking and they are seriously over-budget. Czerka wants to plan a new world, as if this were a straight terraforming job. You will recover natural resources from the planet, and reuse or sell them to offset the project cost, making your plan much more efficient."

Lorso nodded. "Correct."

"That sounds pretty good, with only one problem I can see." Meetra crossed her arms. "Telos has no major deposits of high-value minerals. The planet's only major export was farmed foodstuffs. You'd have to get the Zones up and running before you could bring any money in, meaning there's no way to offset the restoration costs. Now, if you can't offset the costs, how does Czerka profit?" She fixed Lorso with an icy stare. "Once you rebuild the planet, Czerka is built into its infrastructure. Then, when the Republic restores the other war-torn worlds the same way, Czerka has a monopoly all over the Rim-the same advantage you hoped to gain by backing the Sith five years ago. I think I've heard enough."

Lorso shrugged. "I'm here if you change your mind. Citadel Station is at a crossroads right now, and so are you. Don't take the wrong road." The screen went blank.

Atton turned to Meetra and raised his eyebrows. "She seems nice." Meetra chuckled and Kreia let out a disapproving grunt. The trio ate and turned in for the night.

Atton opened his eyes. He sat up in bed and looked around. Meetra was sleeping peacefully in the bed to his left. Kreia was a black silhouette in the window, looking out at the ships going by. Atton stood and walked up alongside her. "Explain something to me."

"I do not have the years required," the old woman said quietly, "nor the desire to indulge you."

Atton glanced over his shoulder. "If she served in the war… well, Jedi are supposed to be tough. Capable."

Kreia nodded. "Yes, and what are they without the Force? Take the greatest Jedi Knight, strip away the Force, and what remains? They rely on it, depend on it, more than they know. Watch as one tries to hold a blaster, as they try to hold a lightsaber, and you will see nothing more than a woman-or a man. A child."

"But to lose so much…" Atton shook his head. "I guess I didn't realize how much they relied on it."

"Do not be surprised," said Kreia. "In many ways, even you are more capable than a Jedi. You could survive where they could not simply because you do not hear the Force as they do. It is irony of a sort, and it is why I tolerate your presence now." She turned to look down at Meetra. "But we have spoken enough of this, and we do her a disservice by not speaking of this while she is present." Kreia turned back to the window, and Atton went back to bed.

* * *

 **A/N: Meetra is very different from Jace when it comes to abilities. Jace is strong in the Force, but lacks the training to use it effectively. Meetra has the knowledge, but her connection to the Force is weak. To use a gaming term, she has a shallow 'mana pool.' On Peragus, just the one stun droid left her drained. There are, for lack of a better term, 'Force moments' when she regains a chunk of her connection, and thus increases in strength. She thus will be more powerful than Jace because she remembers all of her 40+ years of experience, while-during** ** _Second Chances_** **, anyway-Jace does not.**


	7. Telos, part three

**Disclaimer: I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I don't own KotOR.**

* * *

Meetra and the others spent a comfortable night in the apartment. When they awoke, there was a message waiting for them-Grenn would be dropping in later in the morning. He arrived at a little after nine o'clock, as they were finishing breakfast. "I've come to inform you that the Telosian government has completed its inspection of the Peragus facility. It appears that the _Harbinger_ had indeed been present, and was responsible for the station's destruction. Logs recovered from the facility's wreckage indicated that the miners perished as a result of sabotage, which began while you and your companions were either incapacitated or incarcerated. As such, you are to be released from house arrest. However, the Republic wishes to interview you. They have insisted that you remain on-station until the local commander arrives to speak with you."

Meetra nodded. "How long will I have to stay?"

"The _Sojourn_ is already en route," said Grenn. "It will likely be no more than a week. During that time, you'll have free roam of the station; feel free to use these quarters during your stay. I'm keeping a security detail on your apartment in case anyone else tries to claim the bounty. There are TSF in all public areas of the station, so you should be fine while you're out and about."

"Is the _Ebon Hawk_ still impounded?" asked Meetra.

Grenn shook his head. "The vessel's I&D is complete. Please visit the TSF station in Entertainment Module 081 to complete the necessary paperwork at the front desk. The _Ebon Hawk_ should be transferred from the impound docks by the time you're free to leave."

Meetra cocked her head. "What about my T3 droid?"

"After filling out the paperwork, it'll be transferred with your ship, along with your confiscated weapons and armor," said Grenn. He spread his hands. "Look, we know you aren't responsible for the destruction of the mining facility. Relax for a few days, talk to the Republic, then you'll be on your way." He turned and left the apartment.

"Well, now what?" asked Atton. "We can't just stick around. We need to find a way off this station, whether it's the _Ebon Hawk_ or some other ship." He rubbed his chin. "We could hit Nar Shaddaa, maybe. If you've got people coming after you, it's where you go to get lost in the crowd."

Meetra smiled slightly. "You know that from experience?"

Atton shot her a dirty look. "Hey, everyone needs to get lost once in a while. Get away from something, you know? It's no big deal."

"What do you think, Kreia?" Meetra asked.

Kreia took a moment to think. "It is difficult to say. I feel we have come to Telos for a reason, but we may have spent too much time here already. Even if the _Harbinger_ was destroyed at Peragus, more Sith could already be on their way. Still, there is a chance we might learn of other Jedi here. Before the war, Jedi who failed in their training were sent to the fields of Telos, to serve the galaxy not as Jedi Knights, but as farmers and laborers. The destruction of Telos was complete-I doubt any Jedi remain. Yet there may be… echoes of their passing. We shall see."

Meetra shrugged. "In any event, we need our ship and gear back. That's our first priority. We'll hit the TSF office and go from there." They didn't have any gear to pack, so the trio just headed out.

* * *

Residential Module 082 was a large rectangular structure, divided by a bulkhead into 082 East and West. There was a large atrium hallway running down the center of the module; skylights in the ceiling looked out into space and planters held grass and small trees. The sides of the atrium were lined with doors leading off to office compounds and apartment blocks. They crossed into Module 81 via the same walkway they had used the previous day. They headed down a corridor past the entertainment block. The crew rounded a corner to see two humans dragging a Sullustan out of a cantina.

"Please-I don't want any trouble," said the frightened alien. "It was an accident, I swear."

"That didn't look like an accident to me or my associate here," slurred the shorter of the two men. "It looked like you wanted to make a fool of him."

The Sullustan held up his hands. "No, no, that wasn't the way it was. I did not mean to disturb your drinking, allow me to leave and go on my way. I will trouble you no longer."

The taller man crossed his arms. "Not even an apology? That won't do at all."

Meetra stepped forward. "What's going on here?"

The man smiled. "This Sullustan here had a few things to say to us that we didn't take so well. We're just trying to resolve our differences."

"I'd like to hear his side of the story," said Meetra.

"Oh, thank you!" cried the Sullustan. "It's very simple. I was at the bar, enjoying my drink, when these brutes here elbowed their way up to the bar, spilling my beverage all over the two of us. Then they dragged me out here." He shot a fearful glance at the two men. "Look at those two! I know what they want-to send me home with my limbs twisted, body battered and spirit broken. You must help me!"

This doesn't have anything to do with you, stranger," said the shorter thug. "Just move right along. Have a drink in the cantina."

Meetra put her hands on her hips; she saw Atton spreading out wide in the corner of her eye. "I think you should leave now."

The two men began moving apart. "Just my luck," said the thug, "someone who wants to be a hero. Why don't you run along before you get hurt?"

Meetra shook her head firmly. "We won't let you lay a hand on him."

The tall thug moved first, throwing a haymaker which Meetra ducked. She punched the big man in the side and then kicked him in the rear to send him staggering. The Sullustan yelped and ran to safety. Atton took on the shorter man, who came in with straight jabs. Atton blocked easily enough and countered with a high left hook, which the short man stopped with a forearm. Atton dropped his hips and connected with a one-two punch to the gut, then followed up with a powerful uppercut. The big man was back on his feet and charged in at Meetra. She drove upward off her back foot, slamming her left knee into his chin. The man went over backwards, out cold. Meetra moved to help Atton.

Atton didn't need any help. His opponent was sporting a cut lip and had taken several shots to the ribs without landing a single solid hit. He charged; Atton caught his arm and lapel, then fell backwards and planted a foot in his chest. The sacrifice throw sent the thug flying. The short man hit the floor and slid nearly five meters down the hallway as Atton got to his feet. The thug cursed and reached into his jacket. Meetra's eyes widened as the man drew a blaster pistol; there was no cover in the corridor. Atton threw something which struck the thug in the right bicep. He howled in pain, dropped the weapon, and clutched at his arm. Atton ran in and finished him off with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head.

Meetra took a calming breath. Atton walked over to the shorter thug and retrieved his thrown weapon, which turned out to be a folding tactical knife. Meetra frowned. "Where did you pick that up?"

Atton grinned. "The TSF impostor had it on him-they didn't search us after he attacked you. I didn't like the idea of being unarmed in house arrest, so I kept it."

Everyone looked up at the sound of the Sullustan's excited voice. "Here, officer! They're over here!" A TSF patrolman was running up, blaster out but pointed safely at the deck. The Sullustan explained the situation; the officer cuffed the two drunks and called for backup to take them into custody. With the brawl over, the Sullustan headed home and Meetra and her companions continued on to the TSF station.

* * *

A GE3 protocol droid painted in TSF colors manned the front desk. "Welcome to Entertainment Module 081's TSF station. How may I be of assistance?"

"I am Meetra Surik," Meetra said. "Lt. Grenn said to come here to get the _Ebon Hawk_ and the rest of my possessions out of impound."

"I will call up the appropriate information now," said the droid. "One moment. Searching… One moment…" The droid hesitated. "I regret to inform you that the _Ebon Hawk_ is gone. The TSF believes it was stolen and is currently investigating."

"Stolen? How is that even possible?" Meetra spluttered in disbelief.

"It seems the _Ebon Hawk_ was transferred to Telos' surface instead of an impound dock," replied the droid. "However, both the requester and the point of delivery are unknown. In addition, the vessel is not showing up at any government-sanctioned landing site. I would conjecture that it has been stolen and the TSF records have been illegally accessed and modified."

Atton swore. "I knew it! That stupid T3 unit stole our ship! It's probably joyriding through the system right now, laughing at us… laughing at me."

"That is unlikely," said the protocol droid. "While your utility droid is not accounted for, numerous satellites track all incoming and outgoing vessels. There is no record of the _Ebon Hawk_ leaving the system."

"Wait," said Atton. "You're saying the ship's actually somewhere on Telos' surface?" He turned to Meetra. "I don't understand. Telos' atmosphere is highly corrosive outside the shielded Restoration Zones. Where else could someone land safely?"

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that's all the information I have for you," the droid said. "However, it is unlikely that someone could steal a starship from under TSF observation without considerable backing. If your vessel has been stolen, there is a fair chance that the Exchange possesses relevant information."

Meetra rolled her eyes. "Can I get my possessions back at least?"

"Fortunately, your possessions were kept in the armory and were uncompromised. I will open the door so you may retrieve them." The droid handed Meetra a keycard and pointed. "You will find them in the marked security locker."

Meetra crossed her arms. "Tell Grenn I want to speak with him. Now."

"I have sent a message to Lieutenant Grenn's datapad," replied the droid. "He is making inquiries in Dock Module 126. He should return within fifteen minutes, at which time he will see you in his office."

"I suppose that will have to do." Meetra turned to the others. "Let's go pick up our gear before it disappears too." The armory was just off the TSF lobby; the crew found the appropriate locker and retrieved their meager stock of weapons. Meetra buckled on her swords; the mining lasers and vibrocutter had drained power cells. With no way to charge them, they elected to leave the mining gear behind.

Meetra twisted her hands. "I'm wondering about our 'stolen' ship. I was on board the _Harbinger_ because a Republic Intelligence agent contacted me. She told me that the Rim Fleet intelligence chief wanted to speak with me. I was wandering the Far Rim-I still don't know how the Republic knew where to find me. I still don't know what they want, but they know I'm a Jedi exile. They may believe me responsible for the attacks on the Order. It occurs to me that with no legal means of holding us, the Republic may have asked Grenn to hide our ship so we couldn't leave."

"It is possible." Kreia stroked her chin while she thought. "The Jedi believed everyone who followed Revan to war was lost to darkness. Revan's own change of heart did nothing to change their stubborn minds. If the Republic believes you are a threat, they may not be prepared to listen to you."

Meetra nodded. "When we talk to Grenn, read him closely. I want to know if he's telling me the truth." Kreia nodded and the trio left the armory.

* * *

The protocol droid called them a short while later; Grenn had returned and was waiting for them in his office. When they entered, the lieutenant was sitting at his desk, rubbing his temples. "Ms. Surik, let me begin by offering my sincerest apology to you and your companions. This is an unacceptable lapse. I want to assure you that the TSF is doing everything in its power to find your ship."

Meetra looked at Kreia and raised her eyebrows. Kreia nodded. "He speaks the truth. He has no idea what happened to the _Ebon Hawk_."

Grenn smiled thinly. "I take it you weren't sure you could trust me."

Meetra shrugged. "Republic Intelligence asked to speak with me, and they wouldn't say why. I was being careful; there have been two attempts on my life in the last week."

"Yet you're still here." Grenn stood up looked out the window at the station traffic. "I've heard you mean to assist the Ithorians in their efforts. I've also heard that you were involved in an… incident outside a cantina, not far from here. You can clearly take care of yourself, and you don't mind ruffling a few feathers." Grenn turned back to Meetra. "How would you like to help the TSF in some of our current investigations?"

"What do you need?" asked Meetra.

Grenn folded his arms. "We're looking for a man named Batono, who has been missing for some time. He was the overseer of dock operations for Czerka, and was assisting us in uncovering the elusive black market smuggling operation that appears to be operating out of Citadel Station. A few weeks ago, he suddenly disappeared and hasn't been heard from since."

"Why do you need my help?" asked Meetra. "This sounds like something the TSF should investigate."

"Well, er, that's the problem," said Grenn. "Our investigation wasn't exactly government-sanctioned."

Meetra frowned. "What do you mean?"

Grenn cleared his throat. "I may have been specifically ordered not to pursue the matter."

Atton rolled his eyes. "Someone's on the take."

"That may be, but that's not what's important," said Grenn. "Batono was working for me, and I want to know what happened to him." He met Meetra's eyes. "There is another matter as well. While we were holding you in the TSF station, there were two ruthless killers in the maximum-security detention block. They are a Rodian and a Devaronian-they're hired guns, usually do hits for the Exchange. When the false Batu Rem came after you, he had help-someone sliced the cameras to make it appear that they had shorted out. The same slicer disabled the security systems on the killers' cells. They overpowered several guards and escaped into the Citadel. They are armed and dangerous."

Meetra shook her head. "I'm not a bounty hunter."

"This isn't a bounty, exactly," said Grenn. "It's against TSF policy to offer a reward for violent criminals-the hunter might get hurt. But, whoever is after you also freed them. With the first assassin dead, these two have likely been hired to come after you next. I'm saying that if you should happen to kill them, the TSF will assume it was self-defense."

Meetra nodded. "I'll keep an eye out. Now, I need to leave-I have a meeting with the Ithorians." She shook Grenn's hand. "Let me know if you find out anything about my ship."

Meetra and the others returned to the Residential Module and headed to the western section, where the Ithorian compound was located. Meetra identified herself to the greeter and was shown into a large office. Moza was waiting, next to a shorter, older Ithorian with blue-green back skin and tan-yellow countershading. "Ah, it gladdens me that you came," said the older Ithorian. "I am Chodo Habat, leader of the Ithorians here. I am sorry to impose our troubles upon you, but I did not know where to turn until I sensed your arrival."

"You 'sensed my arrival?'" asked Meetra.

"Yes," said Habat. "I am a priest of my people, an adept in the Force. I sensed an echo within the Force upon your arrival… it is a subtle disturbance, unless one is actively listening for it. I suspected you were one of the remaining Jedi, and hoped that you could help us. This is why I sent Moza to seek you out."

Meetra pursed her lips. _Am I a Jedi?_ "What do you want from me?"

"Tell me, do you know of the problems our restoration efforts face?" asked Habat.

"Yes," replied Meetra. "Moza explained your troubles with Czerka. I've spoken to Lorso, and she was not convincing. Do you have any specific jobs you need done?"

Habat brightened. "Our first goal is to get the Restoration Project moving again. The Republic originally provided a droid intelligence to Citadel Station that would help manage the logistics of the project. It… vanished… some time ago."

"Vanished?" said Meetra, "How?"

"That is not known," said Habat. "It may have been an accident. Perhaps the droid intelligence was overtaxed by the staggering size of the project and became irrational. Some among my herd suspect theft. A droid intelligence of that sophistication would fetch a high price on the black market. Others fear its disappearance was the result of sabotage, by Czerka or some other organization that seeks to slow the Restoration Project or discredit us. But the how or why of it is irrelevant." Habat took a deep breath. "At great expense, my herd has acquired a second, somewhat lesser droid intelligence to take its place. It will arrive at Citadel Station shortly. The Telosian government has offered a small escort, but I had hoped that you might see its safe transition from the docks to here. Might you aid us in this matter?"

Meetra nodded. "Yes, I'll see it to you safely."

Chodo bent his head low-Ithorians couldn't smile in the conventional manner. "My thanks. I will send word to my people. They will be awaiting your arrival in our docking bay."

"I'll return with the droid intelligence." Meetra shook hands, then turned and left the office.

* * *

Dock Module 126 was too far to walk, so they took a transit shuttle. Meetra was leading the way through the terminal when two men wearing Czerka uniforms stepped into their way. One was a nondescript human, the other a tall green-skinned Twi'lek; it was the second who spoke. "So, you're Habat's errand boy, hm?"

Meetra nodded. "I'm helping the Ithorians, yes."

"So I heard," said the Twi'lek. "You should consider Czerka's offer. If you return the droid to Executive Lorso, she'll pay you far better than the Ithorians."

"It has nothing to do with money," said Meetra, shaking her head.

"The planet, then?" asked the Twi'lek scornfully. "You don't really think those Ithorians could do better than Czerka, do you?"

"Actually, I do," said Meetra coolly.

The Twi'lek shook his head. "Let's go." The two Czerka workers turned and left.

Meetra turned to her companions. "This isn't going to go smoothly. Would either of you like to use my short sword?"

Atton shook his head. "My knife will do."

Kreia raised her hand; she floated a credit chip above her palm. "I have all I need."

They walked into the bay. The shuttle had just landed; the Ithorian pilot walked down the ramp along with the droid. There was a single TSF guard. "I'm glad you're here. I'm the only man the TSF could spare and frankly, I've got a bad feeling about this."

Atton snorted. "You and me both, buddy."

"Yes, we are all pleased to see you," said the Ithorian. "Chodo Habat had said that another would arrive to help us. We-"

"Excuse me, Master," interrupted the droid, "but it seems we have some additional visitors." Meetra and the others turned to look; five thugs were approaching, armed with vibroblades and stun batons.

"Who are you?" spluttered the Ithorian pilot, "How did you get in here?" There was no response; the thugs drew weapons and attacked.

Meetra gestured; the TSF officer nodded and hustled the Ithorian and pilot behind the shuttle. Atton drew his knife and faced a man and woman, each carrying a baton. Kreia stuck out a hand and blew a thug into the hangar wall. Meetra took on two with vibroblades. A thug swung at Atton; he grabbed the man's forearm and threw him back. The woman came in and Atton spun to sweep her legs. She jumped over the attack and Atton continued to spin, coming back around to send a kick into her ribs. The woman was knocked back but kept her feet. She and Atton began to circle each other. Meetra attacked her opponents headlong, keeping them on the back foot. They weren't very skilled, but they were smart enough to split wide apart to keep her between them. Meetra kept moving to keep her eye on both of them. Kreia was in a close fight with the bruiser she had knocked back. He slashed vertically with his vibroblade and Kreia danced aside. She slammed her stump into his stomach, then placed her hand against his forehead. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell unconscious; Kreia took his weapon and moved to help Meetra.

Atton had managed to slash his opponent's arm, but the man he had kicked was back up and moving in. The woman swung her stun baton, but Atton blocked with his left arm. He shoved her backward and delivered a front kick to her solar plexus, putting her down for the count. Atton turned to deal with the remaining enemy. The TSF officer shouted an alarm as the man drew a small pistol from a concealed holster. Atton rushed him before he could bring the blaster around. He grappled in close and slammed the knife in beneath the thug's chin, twisting the blade until the tip grated on bone. Atton took the thug's holdout and called out to the others. Kreia and Meetra hit the deck. Atton and the TSF officer fired, dropping the last two thugs.

"I am grateful for your assistance," said the pilot, coming out from hiding behind the shuttle. "That was most terrible. I wonder who could have ordered such a thing."

"Who, indeed?" said Kreia dryly. She and Meetra shared a significant look.

"They certainly have big-money backing," Atton said, holding up the small blaster. "This is no ordinary holdout. It's as powerful as a full-size blaster, coated grips, high-visibility sights. This isn't a thug's gun."

Meetra nodded. "We'll deal with that next. For now, let's get the droid to the Ithorian compound."

* * *

 **A/N: I feel like there could be a cool cop show set on Citadel Station, with Grenn and his officers trying to hold things together while opposed by corrupt politicians, evil corporations, and the Exchange.**


	8. Telos, part four

**Disclaimer: I didn't create Zeltrons, Quarren, or Ithorians.**

* * *

The trio escorted the droid across the station to Module 82. Atton had taken the thug's holster, which attached to his belt at the small of his back. With his jacket on, the pistol was invisible. He seemed much calmer now that he was properly armed. Kreia had also kept the vibroblade; a short sword worked well for her, as she had only one hand for a weapon. They completed the delivery; the droid walked to a console and began processing the restoration data. Habat and Moza thanked Meetra profusely.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you?" asked Meetra.

Habat nodded. "This incident at the docks confirmed one of my fears. The gunmen were from the Exchange-Czerka has hired the criminal syndicate to work against us. Long have I suspected that Czerka and the Exchange work together, the former supplying manufactured arms to be sold via the latter's black market channels." Meetra shot a glance at Atton, who raised his eyebrows. "Now," continued Habat, "with the TSF keeping a closer eye on Czerka activities, the corporation has turned to the Exchange to be its fist on Citadel Station."

Meetra nodded. "And you want me to stop them."

Habat rubbed the back of his neck. "I have tried to meet with the leader of the Exchange here, a Quarren named Loppak Slusk. He has refused my every invitation, and allows no one inside the Exchange suites. I fear he does not take us seriously." Habat pointed at Meetra. "The Jedi, though, are renowned as warriors and diplomats both. Perhaps you might speak with Loppak, show him the value of a restored Telos."

Moza handed Meetra a data card. "Loppak Slusk poses as the head of a legitimate business, the Bumani Exchange Corporation. Those wishing to meet with him must speak to his second, a Zeltron woman named Luxa. She is usually to be found at a cantina in Entertainment Module 081. You must convince her that you mean business."

"I have to speak with Grenn about the ambush," said Meetra, "but I'll get started on Luxa later this evening."

"I am most grateful for your assistance," said Habat. "I will guide my thoughts towards your safety-and Loppak's, as well. I wish harm upon no one."

Meetra led the way back to Module 81; Grenn was in his office. "I heard all hell broke loose at the docks. Thanks for keeping my man safe."

"It was nothing," said Meetra modestly. She gestured to Atton, who stepped forward. "Speaking of which, I have a blaster for you to look at."

"A blaster? Hm. I don't see why not." Grenn took the holdout from Atton and examined it briefly. His head snapped up. "What? Where did you get this?"

"One of the mercs at the hangar bay tried to kill me with it," quipped Atton.

"Interesting," said Grenn. "This is no ordinary holdout. It's been outfitted with a number of illegal modifications." He shook his head angrily. "A weapon with these black market additions should not be available on the Station. When off-world weapons are transported onto Citadel Station, whether they are personal arms or shipments to be resold, they are inspected and licensed by the TSF." He shot Meetra a grim look. "This confirms my fear that there is a source of black market weapons and components here on the Station. I could use your help getting to the bottom of it."

Meetra nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Grenn smiled. "Great. The first thing I would suggest is showing the blaster around… discreetly. Most of the weapons shops on the Station are in this module. I have a few likely suspects you can start with." Grenn gave Meetra a datapad with a list of suspicious businesses. Meetra thanked him and left.

* * *

The crew spent most of the rest of the afternoon talking to shopkeepers. None of the vendors they checked had any idea where the pistol had come from; Kreia's abilities made it easy to determine that they were telling the truth. Eventually, there was only one shop left on the list: Dobo Brothers' Emporium. The shop was run by a pair of Duros: Dendis sold clothing, tools, and medicine; Samhan traded weapons and armor. Meetra spotted a holster of the same type as the thug's on the wall behind the counter and walked up to Samhan.

"Welcome to Dobo Brothers," he said. "Are you buying or selling?"

"Inquiring," replied Meetra, taking the holdout from Atton. "What can you tell me about this blaster?"

Samhan beckoned. "Give it here and let me look at it." Meetra handed it over and Samhan examined it briefly. "Yes, that's very interesting. Very good craftsmanship. But no, I can't tell you anything about it other than that it is a holdout blaster. Upgraded."

Kreia made a hand sign below the counter; Meetra's eyes narrowed. "I think there's something you're not telling me."

Samhan shot her a distrustful look. "And why would this be of interest to you?"

 _Let's see how strong his mind is._ Meetra met Samhan's eyes and stretched out towards the Duros' presence in the Force. "I heard that there is a healthy trade in black market goods on the Citadel, I'd like to get involved."

"Indeed?" mused Samhan, giving Meetra a measuring look. "Then we should talk, for I have what you might call a certain interest in this business."

Atton smirked; Meetra nodded. "I expect the pay is good."

Samhan bobbed his head. "It might be, if you're any good. Let's see what you've got. There are three items I've been trying to get a hold of-leaves from the bachani plant in the Ithorians' vivarium, an experimental shield being kept in their docking bay, and packages of medical supplies from the Module 82 medical unit. Get me any one of those, and you'll get a cut of the proceeds, and prove you can handle yourself."

"I'll case the targets and go from there," said Meetra. "I'll be back when I've got something for you." She turned and left the store.

Meetra found a public comm terminal and called Grenn. "The smuggler is Samhan Dobo, or at least he's one of them. He asked me to steal some things to move off the station." Meetra went on to explain what Samhan was after.

Grenn whistled. "All that? If that's the size and substance of his usual shipments, it helps explain quite a bit." Meetra heard typing. "It will take some time for me to assemble those. I can have the case ready tomorrow morning."

"Should be fine," said Meetra. "I have to wait long enough for him to believe I stole it. Some investigators poking around would help."

Grenn nodded. "I can arrange that. I'll see you after breakfast." He cut the comm.

Meetra turned to the others. "Let's see if Luxa's in the cantina. If she is, I'll talk to her, try to set up the meet with Slusk."

* * *

The group headed along the module until they reached the right cantina. The place was the same as on any space station: gambling tables, a swoop gallery, Twi'lek dancing girls onstage, and a bar serving questionable food and powerful beverages. Meetra looked around and spotted Luxa. She was leaning against one end of the bar between two enormous Gamorreans, obviously bodyguards. Luxa had the same pink skin as all Zeltrons, deep red hair cut short, and pink eyes. She showed off her knockout figure with a sleeveless leotard in some sort of green leather, with opera gloves and thigh-high boots of the same material. She was sipping a cocktail idly, pretending to relax while closely watching the room.

Meetra was walking up to the Luxa when her way was blocked by a dark-skinned man flanked by a Rodian and an Aqualish. "Ah, so you must be the Jedi everyone's been whispering about," he said. "No more trouble with the TSF, I hope?"

Meetra noticed that Luxa was looking on. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Perhaps you don't know who I am," he said boastfully.

Atton raised his eyebrows. "Someone with an inflated view of himself?"

The man's eyes narrowed. "You haven't been on Citadel Station long, have you? Let me introduce myself. I'm Benok, the man in charge of Loppak Slusk's protection. You do know who Loppak Slusk is, don't you?" He indicated the two aliens. "With me are Matu and Nahata, Slusk's finest men. Other than me, of course."

"Oh, leave the woman alone, Benok," said Luxa. "I bet she'd come out on top if you fought."

"Now, Luxa, I meant no disrespect," Benok said smoothly. "You're probably Slusk's strongest woman."

Luxa shrugged. "It's your skin, Benok. Just warning you-Slusk could easily replace you."

Benok rolled his eyes. "Well, we were just leaving anyway." He jerked his head to Matu and Nahata. "Come on."

"Wise man," Luxa said. She turned to Meetra. "You know, I heard about what happened at the docks. Can we talk for a bit?"

Meetra shrugged. "Yes, go on."

Luxa sipped her drink. "I handle vice-you know, spice, gambling, the good things in life-for the local Exchange boss, Loppak Slusk."

"I don't want any trouble." Meetra shifted her pose. It wasn't much, just enough to suggest a preparation to fight.

Luxa held up a hand. "Don't worry, I won't make a move on you. That squid and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, you being one of them."

Meetra frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Look," asked Luxa, "are you really Jedi?"

All Zeltrons had limited telepathic capability; Meetra could feel Luxa probing at her mind. It was a weak effort by Jedi standards, but Meetra had no reason to lie anyway. "I was, but not anymore."

"Exactly," Luxa said firmly. "This Exchange bounty has nothing to do with you, but Slusk, my boss, won't listen to me." He pose and attitude changed suddenly. "Still, you seem like a very capable sort. Tell me, are you a capable sort?"

"I'm capable, yes," replied Meetra.

"Good," smiled Luxa. "I like that in a woman."

Meetra picked up a faint pleasant smell, and realized that Luxa was expressing pheromones. Meetra laughed inwardly. _So, that's her play._

"I have a proposition for you," said Luxa. "We should talk more-in private." She waved away the Gamorreans and pointed to a curtained archway leading to the club's VIP rooms.

Meetra turned to Atton and Kreia. "I'll meet you back at the apartment." Kreia made a disapproving noise; Meetra shook her head. "I'll be fine, Kreia. Do you see any weapons on her?"

"I dunno," leered Atton, "She might be hiding a shiv somewhere."

"If I am, you'll never know it," snapped Luxa. "I don't make deals with the hired help around. Loose lips, and all that." She turned back to Meetra. "So, are you coming, or not?"

"Of course," said Meetra. "After you."

Luxa smiled lustfully and took Meetra's hand, leading her through the archway. They headed down a narrow hall and turned right. "This is my office," said Luxa. "I run this club along with most of the other entertainment venues in the module." The desk had several displays cycling through camera views of the club. Next to the desk was a small bar, and against the wall was a large divan. The whole place was red silk upholstery and dark wood.

Meetra looked around, nodding appreciatively. "You have good taste." Luxa gestured for Meetra to sit on the divan. She walked to the bar, mixed a pitcher of cocktails, and poured two glasses. Luxa carried the drinks over and held them out. Meetra picked the glass in Luxa's left hand and sipped. The drink was not too strong, tart citrus well-balanced with herbs and a hint of sweetness. _Two drinks, same pitcher, I pick the glass, makes a drugged drink unlikely. A gangster's way of establishing trust. Of course, the_ real _drug is coming from her skin._

"So here it is," said Luxa in a straightforward tone. "Help me with Loppak Slusk, and I'll keep the Exchange off your back-and find your missing ship."

"What's your problem with Slusk?" asked Meetra, anticipating the answer.

"What, besides his being your typically slimy Quarren?" Luxa took a pull on her drink. "Slusk works for Goto, out of Nar Shaddaa. Now this Goto, he's rigid, ruthlessly efficient, and all he sees are numbers. Goto keeps the squid around because he maintains a steady flow of income… yet it's only half of what I know it could be. I should be the Citadel's boss-but Goto doesn't allow breaks in the chain of command. I can't go over Loppak Slusk's head, so I've got to take care of him myself. And I want your help. I can get you into the Exchange suites in Residential 082. More than a few of the guards are in my pocket, so there shouldn't be too much resistance inside." Luxa sat down next to Meetra. "When Slusk's out of the way, I'll clear up this bounty matter and get your ship back. Deal?"

Meetra thought a moment. _She's lying, but I don't know about what. Maybe Slusk stole the_ Hawk, _maybe Luxa grabbed it as leverage. Either way, I can use her against Slusk._ She shook her head slightly. "I don't know, Luxa. If you're willing to stab your boss in the back, why should I expect any different?"

Luxa smiled. "Because I'm going to let you search me for the shiv."

Meetra's head swum as Luxa let out a potent blast of pheromones. Luxa leaned in and kissed Meetra on the lips. Meetra jumped slightly, then responded as if dazed. Luxa slipped her tongue into Meetra's mouth, her hands running up and down Meetra's body. She smiled cruelly, leaned down and whispered into Meetra's ear. "When you see Slusk tomorrow, you _will_ kill him."

"I will kill him," repeated Meetra, glassy-eyed.

"Good," said Luxa. She walked over to the bar.

Meetra was still for a few moments, then shook her head to clear it. "Wow, Luxa, you're amazing, even for a Zeltron."

Luxa smiled slyly and winked. "You haven't seen anything yet. We'll meet again… _after_ you've taken care of Slusk. Best of luck, beautiful."

Meetra left the club and returned to the apartment; Atton and Kreia were waiting. "So, how did your meeting go?" asked Atton, with a faint smile.

Meetra grinned. "It was a success. We've got a way in: Luxa has bought off several of the guards. We'll be able to get in the door and bypass most of the security without a fight."

Kreia tilted her head. "And indulging in your in base lusts with the alien criminal?"

"Oh, I didn't get that far yet," said Meetra. "But now, Luxa thinks that I'm enslaved by her pheromones. She believes that my leaving the Order means I lack the skill to resist her. She expects me to be entirely under her control." She smirked. "She is a good kisser, though."

Atton's mouth was hanging open. "Remind me never to play pazaak with you." He raised his eyebrows. "You know she's going to double-cross you, right?"

"Of course," replied Meetra. "But this way, we only have to fight half of the guards at a time." She took a breath. "We've got a full day tomorrow. We'll sting the smuggler in the morning. If we bring him down quick and quiet, we can be moving on the Exchange before anyone knows that we're working for the TSF and Ithorians. Luxa claims to know where the _Hawk_ is. If that's true, we're gone by midnight tomorrow. If not, we'll be well positioned to make the next move."

* * *

When Meetra and the others left their apartment the next morning, the module commons was full of TSF officers. They were clustered around the entrances to the Ithorian compound and the medical facility. Meetra smiled to herself-Grenn was playing his role perfectly, 'investigating' the thefts in the module. Meetra had no doubt that more TSF were conducting a similar sham investigation in the Ithorian docking bay.

"Excuse me, ma'am." Meetra turned to see a female TSF officer, one of the pair standing guard on her apartment. "Lieutenant Grenn is just around the corner; he's waiting to brief you on the sting." The officer paused for a moment. "I want to thank you. The whole force has heard about the fight in the Ithorian docking bay. Against five thugs, our man would have been dead for sure without you."

"Hey, I remember this one," said Atton, frowning. He pointed a finger at the officer. "You wanted to shoot us back in the detention block!"

The woman flushed and lowered her head. "My name is Soka Linu. I'm sorry-I misjudged you badly."

Meetra smiled gently. "Things turned out all right, officer. Still, don't forget what happened-learn from it. Controlling your anger is just as important for a policewoman as for a Jedi."

Soka took a deep breath and nodded. "I will." She looked back up at Meetra. "If you ever need backup while you're here, call me." Meetra and Soka shook hands, and Meetra headed into the adjacent apartment, where Grenn was waiting with a plasteel goods case.

"Good morning," he said. "As you can see, we've gathered the items and made it look like there were burglaries during the night." Grenn indicated the case. "Everything's here. The case has a tracer in it, along with a small recording device. Take these to Samhan. After that, come back to me and tell me the exchange has been made, and I'll go to the dock module to wait for him. If he won't let you leave until the transaction is completed, go with him. I'll post one of my men near the docking bay, and if he spots you, he'll summon me. Understood?"

Meetra nodded. "Completely. I'll bring Samhan the package and we'll go from there." She took the case and led her group to the Entertainment Module.

* * *

Samhan was behind the counter in the shop. Meetra leaned against the counter and spoke quietly to avoid being overheard. "I've got all three items you were looking for."

"Really?" said the Duros, surprised. Meetra simply opened the case. "Incredible!" said Samhan, stunned. "This is quite a windfall. I wish I had employed your services earlier. With all of this, I'll be able to have the shipment ready to go before the next Czerka freighter arrives." He turned to Meetra. "If you could, would you escort me to the Czerka docking bay? I don't wish to take any chances."

"Sure," said Meetra. "But first, let's talk payment."

"You've certainly earned it." Samhan rubbed his hands together. "Czerka moves high-end weapons and armor through my shop. I usually buy with credits, but they are always on the lookout for unusual tech or biological samples they can reverse-engineer, which is where the stuff you brought me comes in. We'll hand over this case, and pick up a few cases of gear for my special reserves." He eyed Meetra nervously. "I honestly wasn't expecting you to get all three items-I don't have enough cash on hand to pay you what they're worth. If you want, you can take your cut from the shipment I've got coming in, or wait until I make some sales so I can pay you in credits."

Meetra cocked her head. "Let's see the gear, and then I'll decide."

Samhan checked his chrono. "The Czerka shipment is due in less than an hour. Let's get to their docking bay."

Meetra and the others followed the Duros to the Czerka docking bay in Module 126. Samhan had a code for the bay door; a Czerka worker was unloading crates from the shuttle when they arrived. "About time you showed up, Samhan. Your crates are on the deck over there." He indicated a small pile of crates off to the side. "Let's get your shipment loaded, and I can get this stuff back to R&D."

Samhan handed over the case. "As always, a pleasure doing business with you."

"Stop right there!" Grenn strode into the docking bay with three officers in tow. "You're all under arrest, and your possessions will be seized as evidence."

"This is ridiculous!" snapped Samhan. "The TSF cannot just barge in here as they please."

"That's enough, Samhan," said Grenn sternly. "Don't bother protesting your innocence. We know all about your 'business,' thanks to our friend here."

Meetra nodded curtly. "Glad I could be of help, Lieutenant."

"What?!" Samhan snarled, "You set me up? I will see you burn for this!" He reached into a pouch at his waist.

"He's got a grenade!" shouted Grenn warningly, "Take him down!"

The police began to raise their weapons, but Atton was faster than all of them. He drew his holdout and shot the frag clean out of Samhan's hand. The grenade was not primed; it landed harmlessly several meters away. The Czerka worker drew a blaster pistol and fired. Grenn and his TSF officers shot back, and the Czerka man went down in a hail of blaster fire.

"All right! I surrender, I surrender!" Samhan raised his hands. "Arrest me and put me in your force cage, I have no desire to continue this fight."

Grenn smiled grimly. "I thought you might see it my way. Officers, secure the contraband. The rest of you, come with me."

Meetra, Atton, and Kreia followed Grenn and a cuffed Samhan onto a TSF shuttle which took them back to the station in Module 81. Grenn brusquely shoved Samhan into a force cage. The Duros glared out through the security field. "This is a foolish error you have made, Lieutenant Grenn. You cannot hope to keep me here."

"Oh, I think our case against you is pretty good, Samhan," said Grenn. "The goods case was bugged. We've got you on weapons trafficking, racketeering, and conspiracy. Throw in seven counts of attempted murder for pulling that grenade. You're facing life in maximum-security, and the shop will be seized." Grenn smiled. "Of course, I'm after bigger fish. There's a deal to be made in exchange for your testimony against Czerka; I'll leave you to consider your options."

Grenn turned and left the detention area. He led Meetra and the others back to his desk. "Again, I have you to thank. Without your assistance, it would have been impossible for us to place Samhan under arrest."

"As I said, I'm happy to help," said Meetra.

"With Samhan shut down, the flow of illegal weapons and armor should be shut off, at least for a while," said Grenn. "Problem is, the criminal element on Citadel Station has plenty of firepower already." He handed over another cargo case. "Take this, it's from Samhan's stock. It'll help level the playing field for you-but you didn't get it from me."

Meetra smiled, accepted the case, and headed back to the apartment. She opened it to find a suit of highly flexible light armor, a set of tools for cracking locks, and several ion and stun grenades. There was nothing lethal, but the gear was certainly a big help. She donned the armor and handed the tool kit to Atton; they headed to the offices of the Bumani Exchange Corporation.

* * *

 **A/N: The game mostly ignores the fact that Luxa is a Zeltron, except that mind tricks don't work on her. She would be able to heavily influence-if not dominate-anyone who wasn't trained to resist mind control, or had an antidote to her pheromones.**


	9. Telos, part five

**Disclaimer: I hold no stock or other interest in the Bumani Exchange Corporation.**

* * *

The Exchange headquarters was a nondescript office, marked only by the shady Rodian guarding the outer door. "You have no business with the Exchange," he said as they approached, "Get out of here."

Meetra shot him an icy glare. "Luxa sent me."

The Rodian shrugged. "I hope you know what you're getting into, human." He turned and spoke into a comm terminal. "Vula, a human is here to see Slusk. Everything checks out. Please open the door." There was a chirp from the console, and the door opened. Meetra headed into the lobby with the others in tow.

Vula was the human woman sitting behind the reception desk. "I'm terribly sorry, but there must be some sort of mistake. I don't have a record of your appointment-are you sure it was for today?"

"There is no appointment," said Meetra. "Luxa asked me to drop by and speak with Slusk."

Vula frowned in confusion. "No appointment? Then how did… why did… oh!" She blinked as she realized what was going on. "Let me, ah, open the door for you, ah, right away…" Vula thumbed the intercom, along with what Meetra assumed was a silent alarm. "There's a package here for pickup." She turned back to Meetra. "There you are. Have a good day!"

There was a loud click as the outer door locked behind them. The inner door opened to reveal four Gamorreans holding axes. Their chief grunted a command, and the group parted to let Meetra pass. Vula's mouth fell open in shock as Meetra walked right by the guards and into the office suite. Luxa was standing just behind the Gamorreans; she smiled slightly and pointed out a door to her right. Meetra walked through to find Slusk standing around a table along with Benok, Matu, Nahata, and two other thugs.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here, Jedi, with the bounty we've got on your kind," said Slusk threateningly. "What do you want?"

"I'm here representing Chodo Habat," Meetra said evenly.

"You-what?" snapped Slusk, "I gave very specific instructions regarding that hammerhead and any of his cronies." He turned to his bodyguards. "Who let this idiot in? Matu, bring me whoever's working the door. Nahata, tell Chodo if he sends anyone else, we'll come after him. And Benok…" Slusk's mouth tentacles flared wide and he clicked his fangs, "Dust this foolish Jedi."

Benok grinned cruelly. "With pleasure." He kicked the table over and took cover behind it with Nahata; both drew blaster pistols. Slusk retreated to the next room. The rest ran in with vibroblades; Meetra and Kreia met them in the middle of the floor. Atton drew his blaster and took cover in the doorway. Benok and Nahata stood up shooting; Atton drilled the Rodian twice in the chest. Benok fired again, forcing Atton behind the door.

Meetra and Kreia stayed close together, so Meetra could protect Kreia's vulnerable left side. Matu circled Meetra, attacking her head and upper torso with quick slashes. Meetra parried with her off-hand blade and sliced horizontally. Matu hopped backwards, then lunged for Meetra's belly. Meetra trapped his vibroblade between her swords and forced it down to the deck. She saw movement in her peripheral vision; one of the other thugs was attacking her while she could not parry. Meetra ducked and the thug's slash killed Matu. The thug froze when he saw what he had done and Meetra neatly took his head off. Benok roared and swiveled to fire at Meetra. Kreia shot a Force push with her left arm and blasted the table into Benok, crushing him against the wall. The last thug was about to stab Kreia in the back when Atton popped out and shot him dead.

Meetra took a breath and headed through the door Slusk had used. Two more Gamorreans were guarding a final door; an Ithorian was locked in a force cage in the corner. "Help!" he cried, seeing them come in, "Jedi, you must help me!"

Meetra directed a deadly glance at the Gamorreans. "I give you this one chance. Release him now if you value your lives."

The Gamorreans spread their hands. "We cannot open the cage," one grunted. "Once Vula hit the alarm, this entire compound locked down. You need the boss' keycard; he will have it on him."

Meetra nodded grimly and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "I need that door open."

"Luxa said you were strong," said the Gamorrean. "I will get you inside. We will see how strong you are!" He keyed an intercom panel outside the door. "Boss! Matu is here with Koobis, from the door. You want to see him now?" The pig listened to the response from inside the office. "Yes, I will send him." The two Gamorreans ran from the room.

The door opened; Slusk was standing behind two war droids armed with repeating blasters. "What? Whoever let you get back here better be dead, or they'll be wishing they were when my droids are through with you." The two droids stepped through the door, which began to shut behind them. Kreia threw a bolt of blue lightning to disable the droids. Meetra hit them with a powerful push and the droids flew back into the doorway, where they were crushed by the closing doors. Atton and Meetra grabbed the doors and pried them apart, then walked through.

Slusk stood behind his desk; he looked concerned, but not overly so. "You've handled yourself well getting this far. But you should think things over carefully. I can be a very valuable ally." He held out his hands. "Just what is it you want? To join the Exchange? Money?"

Meetra shook her head. "I just want you to leave the Ithorians alone."

"Really?" asked Slusk mildly, "All this trouble just for that?" He focused on something behind Meetra. "Ah, it seems we have some visitors. I was wondering when you'd show up, Luxa."

"Slusk," said the Zeltron in greeting. She stepped into the office with all six Gamorreans at her back.

"I assume this was all your doing?" asked Slusk quietly.

Luxa smiled impudently. "I may have had a hand in this, yes."

Slusk shrugged. "I suppose I should have known. You always were an ambitious one." He laid his hands on the desk. "Enough with that, though. On to the business at hand. I don't think it's possible that all of us will be leaving this room alive."

"I agree," said Luxa. "Don't you agree, dear?"

Meetra picked up the scent of Luxa's pheromones once again. "No, I don't." She noted the look of shock on Luxa's face. "I am here to get the Exchange off the Ithorians' backs, nothing more. You two settle your business; I'll negotiate with whoever is left."

"There will be no negotiations, fool," snarled Slusk, "Because I'll be the only one left!" He hit a control on the desk; two blaster turrets emerged from hidden compartments in the floor and began firing. One of the Gamorreans was killed right away. Luxa must have known about the hidden guns because she threw herself to the floor. Atton threw an ion grenade, temporarily freezing the guns. The Gamorreans moved in, smashing the turrets with their axes. Slusk began firing a sonic pistol; he killed another pig before the rest knocked him to the floor and finished him off with a torrent of ax blows.

"So much for the squid-head," said Luxa gleefully. "Now, we _did_ have a deal, but it was struck under false pretenses." She wagged a finger at Meetra. "You resisted my telepathic abilities and my pheromones… meaning you still have some skill with the Force, and the bounty applies to you."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure you want to take me on under those circumstances? Seems unwise from where I'm standing."

Luxa chuckled and drew an Exchange negotiator from her belt. "I want the Jedi alive, and the other two dead." The Gamorreans spread out and raised their weapons. Three went after Atton and Kreia while one moved to help Luxa take on Meetra. Kreia gestured and one pig simply fell unconscious. Atton fired at another; the Gamorrean took hit after hit and kept coming. Atton was forced to dive out of the way to keep from being cut in half. He jumped, kicked off a wall and grabbed the thug's head. The agile pilot swung his body around the Gamorrean and snapped the pig's neck. He shot the Gamorrean attacking Meetra in the back, doing little damage but forcing it to come after him.

Meetra dodged a baton strike from Luxa. She slashed vertically; Luxa flipped out of the way and landed a powerful kick to Meetra's ribs. She stopped another attack with a palm strike to Meetra's forearm. Meetra saw an opening and struck at Luxa's throat with her short sword. Luxa parried with her negotiator, then triggered the shock pulse. The jolt was transmitted down the metal blade and Meetra cried out as her muscles went into spasm. Luxa smiled cruelly and kicked again at head height. Meetra brought up an arm to block, but the impact knocked her short sword out of her hand. Meetra took a step back to gather herself. _I don't dare touch that baton again; another shock will knock me out._ Luxa moved forward, preparing to finish her off. Meetra gripped her sword two-handed; Luxa positioned her baton to parry. Meetra took a step to the side and slashed downward, taking Luxa's arm off at the elbow, then lunged and stabbed the Zeltron neatly through the heart. Luxa fell dead, face frozen in wide-eyed surprise.

Meetra looked around; Atton and Kreia had taken care of the last of Luxa's thugs. She bent down and recovered the keycard from Slusk's body. "Right," she said, "Let's release the hostage and get out of here."

They walked out of Slusk's office and opened the force cage. "Thank you," said the Ithorian gratefully, "I could not bear another moment confined like that."

"Why were they holding you?" asked Meetra.

"The Quarren wanted the location of a human named Batono," he replied. "They were certain I knew where he could be found. When I told them I did not, they hurt me."

Meetra nodded. "We're getting you out of here. Do you need medical attention?"

The Ithorian shook his head. "I will be fine once I return to the compound. More than anything, I need to sleep in my own bed again."

The group headed out towards the main door. Vula was still at the front desk; she looked up when she heard them approach. Her eyes popped wide open, she jumped up out of her chair and flattened herself against the wall in the corner. "Please don't kill me! I'm only doing my job!"

"Your job?" Meetra raised her eyebrows. "What is your job, exactly?"

"Please, I just take the calls, I…" The woman burst into tears. "I'm sorry."

"Well, you're out of work. Slusk and Luxa are dead." Meetra pointed a finger in her face; Vula flinched as if struck. "This is what you're going to do. You will walk out that door and straight to Lieutenant Grenn in the TSF station. You will tell him everything, and help him with any files or documents in here. If you don't, Vula, I will know, and I'll find you. You don't want that, do you?" Vula shook her head vigorously; Meetra smiled thinly. "Good." She swiped the keycard and the door opened. "Get moving!" Vula nearly flew out the door and down the atrium towards the Entertainment Module.

Atton laughed and shook his head. "Don't you think you were a little rough on her? The poor thing was terrified!"

Meetra turned to face him. "That scare should keep her on the straight and narrow. I don't want her getting involved with criminals again, no matter how desperate she becomes." She glanced at the Ithorian. "Let's get back to Chodo Habat."

* * *

Meetra walked purposefully into the Ithorian compound. The freed hostage headed directly to his apartment to rest. The greeter headed back to speak to Habat, then returned and waved Meetra past. Habat was waiting in his office with Moza. "I am glad to see you have returned safely," he said. "Thank you for freeing a member of my herd."

"The Exchange will trouble you no longer," said Meetra.

Habat nodded sadly. "I understand that your meeting did not go peacefully. It saddens me greatly that blood was shed, it was not my intention to cause harm."

"Not every problem can be solved without violence," Kreia said quietly, "particularly when your adversary has little respect for life. Ask yourself, Ithorian: How many more will suffer if your goal is not achieved?"

Habat swung his neck to look at Kreia. "I suppose that you have a point. Even so, I cannot bring myself to wish harm upon another." He turned back to Meetra. "Still, you did accomplish what I asked, and you should be rewarded. Please accept this humble gift." Habat reached into a belt pouch and handed her a small blue crystal. "It came from a lightsaber that belonged to a Jedi once of my herd."

"Thank you, Chodo. Your gift honors me." Meetra looked down at the small stone. It brought her a flood of conflicting emotions. _I could build a new lightsaber, but should I? Do I deserve to carry one?_

She took a breath and re-focused. "I have an important question for you. The Ithorian I rescued said the Exchange interrogated him. They were looking for information on Batono, a former Czerka worker." Meetra looked Habat square in the eye. "Why would they think that a member of your herd would know where Batono is?"

Habat and Moza looked at each other; Habat rubbed his neck nervously. "What is your interest in this?"

Meetra could tell that she had guessed right. "Lieutenant Grenn has me looking for Batono. He was working for Grenn as an informant when he vanished, about three weeks ago. Grenn is concerned for his safety."

Habat lowered his head. "There is no point trying to deceive you. Indeed, I do know of Batono, and where he can be found. Batono came to us offering help against Czerka. He wished to keep his work with us a secret, even from Grenn-he did not trust the TSF. I arranged a hiding place."

Meetra's eyes widened. "Loppak Slusk grabbed one of your people, so he already knows that Batono met with you. The Exchange doesn't want to invite him to lunch, they want him dead. We must assume that his hiding place is compromised. You can't protect him, but Grenn can. I need to see Batono _now_."

"I trust your judgment," said Habat. "Batono is hidden in an apartment, rented under a false name. I will provide you with an access card and the location. Please convey my apologies to Batono for betraying his trust; I believe he will understand, given the circumstances."

Meetra took the card and headed out to the module atrium. They were a few steps outside the door when Kreia cleared her throat. "I do not approve of this alliance we have formed with Chodo Habat and his Ithorians."

Meetra frowned. "Why is that?"

"Habat has an agenda," Kreia replied, "and he hopes to tie you into it, to use you to his own ends."

"That's true enough," said Meetra, "but I don't sense he intends to do us harm."

Kreia shook her head slowly. "Be that as it may, it would be best if you avoided such needless entanglements. You are too valuable to be caught up in the struggles of this planet."

Meetra put her hands on her hips. "Telos' destruction was a result of the Mandalorian Wars. I owe it to the galaxy to help undo the damage." She shrugged. "On a more practical note, we need to find the _Ebon Hawk_ , and the Ithorians have access to the surface of Telos. The only other option was partnering with Czerka, and I find them less trustworthy." She tossed the saber crystal in the air and caught it. "Habat may also be able to help me restore my connection to the Force. I will need that if I am to face that Sith from Peragus." Meetra shrugged. "Habat gets what he wants, and I get help on my journey. That's a fair trade, if you ask me."

Kreia smiled faintly. "So, you mingle wisdom with your folly. I suppose that will do for now."

Meetra nodded. "Let's find Batono, and we'll go from there."

* * *

The Ithorians were complete novices when it came to keeping someone hidden; the 'safehouse' was only a few doors down from the Ithorian compound. Meetra buzzed the door; there was no answer. She glanced over at Atton, who raised his eyebrows. Meetra took a breath. "Be ready." She unlocked the door and opened it.

The man inside matched Grenn's holo of Batono, and was wearing an anxious expression. "What the-? Hm, you're not CSD, what are you doing here?"

"You're Batono, right?" asked Meetra.

"What? No," he stammered, "You must be mistaken. You're probably looking for the previous tenant or a neighbor."

Meetra held up her hands reassuringly. "Lieutenant Grenn sent me to look for you. He was worried."

"Dol sent you?" Batono rolled his eyes. "Can't say I'm surprised, he was the one who wanted me to come forward in the first place."

"It's the right thing to do," said Meetra.

Batono shrugged. "Easy to say that, but you're not the one Czerka will send its assassins after."

Meetra shook her head. "If it's your safety you're worried about, you shouldn't. After Czerka is exposed, they won't dare move against you."

"Sure, but everything takes time-testifying before the Council, the Council's deliberation…" Batono twisted his hands together nervously. "Time that Czerka could use to rub me out."

"You need to go to Grenn," Meetra countered. "One of the Ithorians was just grabbed by the Exchange. They roughed him up-they were trying to get your location. You need more than a place to hide-the TSF can put you under its protection."

Batono rubbed his chin. "You might be right. I don't think Czerka has gone so far that it's willing to openly clash with the TSF." He looked past Meetra out the open door. "But Czerka has eyes everywhere. I'm not even sure I can leave this apartment safely."

"That's why we're here," said Meetra firmly. "I was once a Jedi Knight. I'll see you safely to the TSF office."

"All right, fine," Batono said, "But we need to get moving." They turned and walked through the apartment commons.

Two figures were waiting at the door to the module atrium-a skinny Rodian and a tall, muscular Devaronian. "Hm, what do we have here?" The Devaronian smiled unpleasantly. "Batono, if I'm not mistaken. You've been a hard man to track down."

Meetra recognized the escaped criminals Grenn had been looking for. She gestured, and Atton and Kreia hustled Batono into cover in the doorway. "And you are?"

"It doesn't matter who I am," squeaked the Rodian. "It's him we've all been looking for. Executive Lorso sent us to take care of some unfinished business."

Meetra drew her swords. "Lorso isn't taking Batono anywhere."

"That's fine," chuckled the Devaronian. "We weren't planning on taking him anywhere anyways." Both killers drew vibroswords.

Meetra drew on the Force and leapt forward, bringing both blades down at the Rodian. She hit nothing; the alien had sidestepped and was slashing at her head. Meetra parried but had no time to counterattack as the Devaronian attacked her blind side. These two were much more skilled than anyone else Meetra had faced on the station; she found herself struggling to fend off both attackers. Kreia ran up to help while Atton guarded Batono. She showed no sign of either age or blindness, and held the Rodian back with expert fencing. The alien grew increasingly frustrated, and tried to break Kreia's guard with powerful two-handed slashes. It was a fatal mistake. Kreia spun aside and the Rodian's momentum carried him past her. Kreia turned and drove her vibroblade into the alien's upper back, severing his spine and puncturing a lung. The Rodian dropped like a puppet with cut strings.

The Devaronian circled Meetra, angling his vibrosword as he looked for an opening. Meetra kept him in front of her and waited for him to make his move. The Devaronian stepped in and slashed; Meetra parried with her off hand and swung for her opponent's head. He ducked and rolled to Meetra's right, stabbing at her belly as he stood. Meetra dodged and the Devaronian tripped her with a low kick. Meetra scrambled to her feet but the killer was past her. Atton began firing; he hit the Devaronian but the big alien kept right on coming. He knocked the pistol from Atton's hand with a wide sweep of his sword. Atton ducked a head-high slash and drew his knife. The killer spotted the blade and seized Atton's wrist. Atton grabbed the Devaronian's weapon arm and the two struggled. The Devaronian head-butted Atton; his horns left a deep cut in Atton's forehead. Atton slumped and the Devaronian threw him to the ground. Atton rolled and jammed his knife into the Devaronian's calf. As the alien roared in pain, Atton grabbed his pistol and fired repeatedly until the Devaronian fell.

"That was a close one," said Batono. "We need to keep moving. Let's leave this mess for the TSF guards to sort out."

"You're right," Meetra agreed, "Let's go."

In ten minutes, they were talking to Grenn in the TSF station. "I have to hand it to you, I'm damned impressed," said the lieutenant. "Not only did you find Batono, you convinced him to testify against Czerka to the Council."

"Also, we took out a couple of heavies Lorso sent after your witness," quipped Atton, rubbing his head. The cut had needed wound glue and a kolto patch, but Atton wouldn't have a scar.

Grenn smiled. "Yes, well done. Those were the two killers I warned you about, and there's a reward for them-dead or alive." He handed over five 100-credit chips. "I was mistaken-they weren't hired to kill you, they were part of a larger scheme to eliminate witnesses against Czerka and the Exchange." He grimaced. "By the way, Samhan Dobo is dead. There was another breach in our computer security-the slicer overloaded Dobo's force cage. Still, we have Batono in protective custody now. I've also been approached by a woman named Vula, who claims to have information on Exchange operations on the station." Grenn smiled at Meetra. "I have no idea what happened in the Bumani offices, of course."

"Of course," chuckled Meetra. "Lieutenant, if there's nothing else, I need to return to Chodo Habat. I need to tell him about Batono, so that we may determine our next move." Grenn nodded, and Meetra and the others returned to the Ithorian compound.

* * *

 **A/N: Like so many other villains, Luxa should be smarter than this. If Meetra has the Force, Luxa is out of her depth. She really should have picked her battles.**


	10. Telos, part six

**Disclaimer: Visas Marr's beautifully tragic character exists thanks to the amazing (and hot) voice acting from Kelly Hu.**

* * *

Chodo Habat was quite shaken to learn that his actions had in fact placed Batono in danger. He was relieved when Meetra reassured him that Batono was safe in TSF hands. Meetra crossed her arms. "So, the droid intelligence is here safely and the Exchange is disrupted. What remains to be done?"

"For the Restoration Project to continue in earnest, the Telosian government must be made to see the cancer that Czerka has become," said Habat. "Their security division is merely an army of badge-bearing thugs. They supply weapons to the local black market. They steal Restoration Zones and land illegal salvage teams on Telos. But Czerka has tremendous influence here, and the Council fears that forcing Czerka out could end the Restoration Project."

"Which is where we come in," Meetra said.

"Exactly so," said Habat. "If you can bring Czerka's corruption to light, perhaps the Republic could intervene and cast them out, or the Council might reconsider. This is what I would ask of you."

Meetra nodded to herself as she thought. "Czerka is a major corporation. They have a big-time bureaucracy. The weapons they were selling through Samhan Dobo had to have been ordered and shipped, which means paperwork. Same thing with payoffs to Loppak Slusk, and the two killers who came after Batono. An enterprise this sophisticated cannot operate without accounting documents, internal memoranda…" She turned to Habat. "We need to get into the Czerka computers."

"We have considered this before." Habat paced back and forth. "Lorso is no fool; we could not find a way to access the files. The Czerka offices contain a secure mainframe. It is a closed system, inaccessible from outside. I am certain this mainframe contains files that would expose Czerka's corruption. It is only a matter of obtaining and then passing them on to the Telosian authorities."

"So it can't be sliced," Meetra mused. "We need to physically access the mainframe, then load the files onto a datapad and walk it out. We need an insider-someone who can get us into that computer room."

Moza rubbed the back of his neck. "There is an employee of Czerka who may be willing to assist us in our cause. Corrun Falt spends his time in the cantinas in the Entertainment Module. He has been overheard complaining about Lorso while intoxicated."

"Moza!" Habat was shocked. "Falt cares nothing for Telos. He is jealous of his superior, and wants to use us to take her job! How can we trust such a man?"

Moza shook his head. "His greed and ambition are useful to us. Helping us achieve our goal will bring a gain for him as well. Too few in this galaxy share our way of thinking, and we must make do."

Habat sighed. "I suppose you are correct."

"Right." Meetra clasped her hands. "I need an image of Falt, so I know who to look for. I'll find him in the cantina, and convince him to help us get at the mainframe." They headed back to the Entertainment Module.

* * *

Corrun Falt turned out to be quite easy to find; he was in what had been Luxa's club, still in his Czerka uniform. Falt was sitting by the stage, drinking and gawking at the dancing girls. Atton grinned and leaned over to Meetra. "His tongue is hanging out of his head-he'd be real easy to seduce. Too bad he's on the wrong team for you."

Meetra glared at Atton, then smirked. "Says who?" Atton was too stunned to respond and Meetra laughed. "I hope it doesn't come to that. He's not as cute as Luxa, and with all the juma he's putting away, his breath probably stinks." She looked over her shoulder at Falt. "I think I'll just try the direct approach." She walked over and sat down across the table from Falt.

He looked up, confused. "Can I help you?"

Meetra smiled pleasantly. "I hope so. There's some information I need about Jana Lorso and Czerka."

"What?" Falt blinked. "What do you mean?"

"There are some files I'd like to get my hands on," said Meetra quietly. "Files I imagine wouldn't make her look good if they went public."

Falt sobered up fast as he realized what Meetra meant. "Wait-are you talking about accessing the mainframe? The Czerka mainframe?" He shook his head. "You're crazy! What are you, some kind of slicer?"

Meetra shrugged. "I'm just looking for some dirt, that's all." She laid a hundred credits on the table-part of the reward money from Grenn.

Falt's eyes darted down to the chit on the table. "Well, I'm sure there are a dozen sorts of dirt on Lorso in there. But it's a closed system."

"So how do I get in?" Meetra asked.

"This is a joke, right?" Falt glanced around suspiciously. "You're CSD, aren't you? Loyalty test?"

Meetra stretched out toward Falt's mind. "Of course not. Our goals are compatible. I want dirt on Czerka…"

"…and I want Lorso looking dirty," Falt finished uncertainly. Meetra could tell that she hadn't closed the deal, and laid the other 400 credits on the table. Falt smiled. "All right. Other than Jana Lorso, only B-4D4 has free access to the mainframe. He's a protocol droid, her administrative assistant. If you controlled B-4D4, you could walk right in."

Meetra frowned. "But, how would I get access to B-4D4?"

Falt crossed his arms. "Nearly all the Czerka technicians are planet-side these days, working the Recovery Zones we've taken from the Ithorians. We've contracted out the maintenance for the office's protocol and utility droids. The tech is a Duros, name of Opo Chano, lives in the apartments in Residential 082. He can order B-4D4 to report to him for maintenance. Czerka was able to really twist his arm on the contract rate-Chano has money troubles. You should be able to convince him to help you."

"Thanks," said Meetra, standing up. "Nice doing business with you." She turned and left the cantina.

Opo Chano's suite was not too far from the apartment Meetra had been given. The door was open. Chano raised his hands as they walked in. "Welcome to my shop! What can I do for you?"

Meetra pursed her lips. "I need you to help me borrow Czerka's administrative droid."

Chano frowned. "B-4D4? But why?"

"Because I need him to get some files from Czerka's mainframe," Meetra explained, "to expose Czerka's corruption to the Telosian authorities."

"Expose Czerka's corruption?" repeated Chano. "Oh, I see, I see. That is a good cause, yes." He shook his head. "I cannot do that. I cannot afford to jeopardize my contract with Czerka."

Meetra crossed her arms. "I did my homework; you need the cashflow to pay a debt. Let's make a call real quick, and see if I can deal with that." She walked over to the comm terminal and dialed Habat's private line.

Habat and Moza came up on the screen. "Meetra Surik, it is good to speak with you. Have you made progress on your mission?"

Meetra nodded. "I have indeed. The Duros with me is Opo Chano, a droid tech here on Citadel. He has a contract to maintain all Czerka droids on the station."

Habat brightened. "You could reprogram a droid to steal the files for us."

"Yes, I could," said Chano, "But Czerka is my most important client. Without them, I cannot service the debt on my business."

"So here is the deal." Meetra clapped her hands once. "Mr. Chano here gets the files for you, and you hire him to maintain your droid intelligence, and any other droids you use here. That way, helping us won't hurt him."

Habat shifted his gaze to Chano. "I would find such an arrangement most agreeable, Mr. Chano. What do you think?"

Chano grinned. "I'd be happy to work for you! Czerka treats me like dirt." He turned to Meetra. "I'll call B-4D4 here right away. I'll set him up to deliver the files directly to the Ithorian compound-you should have them later tonight. Once B-4D4 makes the drop, he'll automatically wipe his memory and return to the Czerka."

Meetra shook Chano's hand. "Thank you very much. I'll return to the Ithorian compound and wait for B-4D4." She smiled. "And congratulations on your new employment!" Chano laughed, and the group took their leave.

Meetra headed down the atrium to the Ithorian compound. She smiled as they passed B-4D4 headed to Chano's shop. They arrived in the early afternoon and settled down to wait. It was about three hours later when the droid walked in. He handed over a datapad and turned to leave. B-4D4 made an odd warble as he blanked his memory on his way out the door. Habat took a moment to skim over the data. "I and all my herd thank you. With these files in hand, the Telosian authorities are certain to expel Czerka from Telos and Citadel Station. Our work can begin again." He took a breath. "And now we shall help you. I have heard that the ship you arrived on is missing, hidden somewhere on Telos. I know of one who could help you find it, and a means by which you could travel to him. When Citadel Station was developing the shield system it uses to protect the Restoration Zones, they worked with a Zabrak ex-military engineer named Bao-Dur. Bao-Dur designed and oversaw the installation of the shield system's planet-side components. His knowledge of Telos' surface and the shield grid is unparalleled. If there is anyone who could locate your ship on Telos' surface, it is he. He is a friend, and may be trusted."

"Sounds like he's our best chance," said Meetra.

"Bao-Dur should be on Telos' surface," said Habat. "I believe he is in one of the Czerka-held Restoration Zones, RZ-0031. I will allow you to use one of our orbital shuttles. It has no hyperdrive, but will get you to the surface, where you can contact Bao-Dur and find your ship." Habat cocked his head. "I must point out that this is illegal. Landing on the planet's surface without permission is forbidden, and we no longer control that Restoration Zone. Please be as discreet as possible."

Meetra nodded. "Thank you, for your help."

Habat held up a hand. "Before you leave us, there is one last thing. When you agreed to help us, I promised that I would try to heal your connection to the Force. It is only fair that after great cost to yourself, I uphold my part of the bargain. I think that I can help in your recovery, at least partially. I must admit, however, that even as the healer of my herd, I have never faced an injury such as this."

"Thank you, Chodo," said Meetra, bowing her head, "go ahead."

Habat held his hand above Meetra's head. She felt a pulse of warmth wash over her. Meetra inhaled sharply as she felt the Force rushing over her. She closed her eyes and felt the beings in the room with her. Meetra reached out and felt the other Ithorians, the plants in the vivarium, and the life in the module beyond. A tear of joy rolled down her cheek. She knew she had far to go, but this was a big step back. Meetra knelt and calmed her mind, letting herself drift on the currents of the Force.

* * *

At the edge of the galaxy, a massive ship cruised silently through the void. It was covered in scorch marks, and the plating was missing over several sections. Deep within the eerie vessel was a small room, its walls covered in carvings and luminous runes. In the center a young woman sat still, meditating. Her skin was pale, but for rosy cheeks. She wore maroon and black robes and a maroon veil trimmed with gilt cloth. She frowned, concentrating, then stood and left the room. She walked through the ship's empty corridors until she reached the bridge. A skeleton crew bent over the control consoles, not speaking a word. A tall figure stood atop the viewing platform, staring out into space. He wore hooded black robes and a white mask trimmed with red.

The young woman approached him and knelt. "I have felt it, too, milord… a disturbance in the Force."

The Sith Lord spoke to her. The words were an ancient language; the voice, a hoarse, rasping whisper. The woman nodded. "It was difficult to make out, milord… at first, it was such a quiet thing, I did not notice it. But now I wonder if it has _always_ been there, I merely could not hear it before. The sound built so slowly, yet when you listen for it, you can make out the strains, even over the background life of the universe."

The Sith Lord turned to face the woman. He spoke again, questioningly. The woman looked up. "Do you feel it is a thr-"

Her voice gave out as the Sith shot out an arm and choked her with the Force. He pulled her upright, lifting her until her feet left the floor, then hurled her backwards. The woman landed on her back and lay there, breathing heavily. He lifted her again, slamming her back to the deck. It must have been painful, but the woman didn't make a sound. The Sith paused for a moment and took a deep, rattling breath. He lifted her a third time, pulling her in until the cold mask pressed against her nose.

"You… you are the darkness in which all life dies, milord. All life… exists to feed your power, and my life… my life is yours." He breathed slowly and deeply; with every breath, she felt a little more of her life flow away, into him. She grew weaker, and her senses dulled; the world grew faint as her heart slowed. There was almost nothing left for him to take. _Please, let this be the end._ "I beg you… please… let me die."

And then the Sith Lord exhaled. The life he had taken from her, he returned. A single dry sob escaped her lips, and then she was quiet again. He lowered her to the deck; she sank down to kneel before him. He spoke once more, a question this time. She bowed until her forehead touched the deck. "Yes… this disturbance echoes through the Force. I can follow it to its source… and bring it to you."

He nodded slowly and hissed a command. She got to her feet. "I will leave at once, milord." The woman walked off of the bridge as her master turned to gaze out at the stars.

* * *

Meetra and the others packed what little gear they had; Habat said the Ithorian shuttle would be ready shortly after midnight. They intended to launch during the night, landing a few hours before dawn. With luck, they'd be able to contact Bao-Dur while it was still dark, and the Czerka patrols were less effective.

They were just arriving in the Dock Module when Meetra's comlink chirped. The voice was fearful, and barely above a whisper. "Meetra! Can you hear me? This is Moza! It is terrible, this is terrible! Armed humans have burst into our home and are causing much destruction and death."

Meetra's head snapped around. "What? How did this happen, Moza?"

"Many of my herdmates lie dead," said Moza frantically. "They are threatening to kill Chodo and the rest unless we hand over the files we stole from the Czerka mainframe! You must help us, Jedi, the TSF is powerless. They are holding Chodo in his room, and have sealed the door behind them. You will need a passkey to open it. I have the key; I am hiding in the vivarium, but I can hear the men hammering on the door. Please, you must help us!" Meetra heard an explosion over the comm and the transmission cut off. She whirled and headed back aboard the transit shuttle.

Kreia sighed. "You have what you need from these Ithorians! You need waste time with them no longer."

Meetra shook her head. "I won't abandon people who need my help, like the Order did." She keyed her comlink again. "Soka Linu? It's Meetra Surik. I need that backup you mentioned, and I need it now. Meet me in the atrium just outside the Ithorian compound as fast as you can." The shuttle door closed and they flew back to the Residential Module.

Meetra sprinted out of the shuttle with the others close behind her. There were several people lying on the ground around the atrium, either dead or unconscious. A small group of people stood at the entrance to the Ithorian compound; they were wearing unmarked armor and carried blaster rifles and carbines. Meetra was reaching for her swords when one of them stepped forward. "Relax, Surik. We're here to help."

Meetra recognized Soka Linu. "I'm glad to see you, but who are all these others? I thought the TSF was out of this fight."

Linu rolled her eyes. "Czerka sent a complaint to the Telosian Council about a break-in at their offices. A few hours ago they forced the Council to give this module to their security forces-TSF officers are no longer allowed to patrol here. With one less module to cover, Grenn gave us all the night off. A little while ago, there was another security breach at the TSF station-someone stole six crates of weapons and armor seized from Samhan Dobo." Linu grinned and flicked her rifle's safety off. "We'll follow your lead, Surik. Let's get this done."

Meetra nodded. "All right. The mercs don't dare kill Chodo Habat until he tells them where the stolen files are, so we've got some time; I expect their orders are to kill everyone once they get the datacard. I'll tell them that I've got the files, and they'll open the door for me. Atton, you'll use your stealth belt and follow me in. Toss a couple of stun grenades when I say the word 'here.' The rest of you, move as soon as the flash fades." Atton nodded and vanished. Meetra walked up to the locked door and hit the buzzer.

A man in armor appeared on the screen. "You have what we want?"

"Yes, I do." Meetra held up a datacard-it held the Restoration Zone map Chodo had given her.

The door opened; three mercs and two war droids stood just inside, covering her with various blasters. "Take out those swords, slowly, and drop them on the floor," ordered one of the mercs. Meetra complied. "Walk forward through the door, hands on top of your head." Meetra did that, too, and the door slid shut behind her.

Meetra took a moment to look around the room, noting how many hostiles there were and where they were standing. Through the Force, she could feel Atton, waiting for her to give the signal. One of the mercs twitched his carbine. "The files. Now."

She nodded and slowly reached for her pocket. "I have them, right here." She closed her eyes; the flash showed red through her eyelids and the noise was tremendous in the enclosed space. Meetra opened her eyes and disabled one of the droids with a shock; Atton shot the other one. The three mercs were still recovering from the grenades, and never saw the end coming. Atton took the two on the right with a flurry of blaster fire. Meetra caught the frozen droid in a grip and hurled it into the last merc, then ran to the reception desk and opened the outer door. Linu and the other officers ran in and took up positions to either side of the inner door, which was also closed.

A moment's work at the desk terminal, and Meetra brought up camera feeds of the next room. "Linu," she called, "Come have a look."

The TSF officer walked over and studied the screen. Several Ithorians were already dead. More were huddled in groups along the back wall of the room, with mercs standing over them. A group of mercs and war droids was taking cover behind overturned tables, blasters trained on the door. Meetra took a deep breath. "I'm the first one in. Atton, Kreia, you'll follow. Linu, your people aim for the mercs covering the hostages." Linu opened her mouth, then shut it without saying anything. She headed over to give the other officers their orders. Meetra positioned herself just to one side of the door with Atton behind her and Kreia on the far side. She held up one, two, three fingers, then activated the door control.

The mercs reacted quickly when the door opened, but they were far from fast enough. Meetra stepped through and blasted a two-handed push into the mercs in cover, scattering them. She drew her swords and ran in, cutting down enemies left and right. Her lightning-fast assault caught the mercs off-guard, and they hesitated. Linu and the TSF people followed, aiming carefully to avoid hitting the hostages. Atton and Kreia arrived on the scene, helping Meetra clean up the stragglers. Meetra snapped her fingers at Linu. "Secure this room and see to the hostages. I'll clear the vivarium and Habat's office." Linu nodded and gave a series of hand signals to the other TSF officers.

The door to the vivarium was just off the common area they'd just cleared. Meetra was approaching the door when it flew open; she dove to avoid the sudden blaster fire from inside. A mercenary in heavy armor stood just inside the doorway, holding a heavy blaster in each hand. Meetra reached out and pulled a planter pot into the man's legs from behind. He went over backward, firing wildly into the ceiling. Meetra leapt through the door, stabbing downward with both swords as she landed.

Meetra looked around the vivarium and spotted Moza sitting in a corner. He was cut and bruised, but okay; she gave him a hand up. "Thank goodness you've come," he cried. "There is no time to lose, you must go to Chodo's aid. Take this passkey, it will give you access to his room."

"I'm on my way," said Meetra, taking the key.

"Thank you, Meetra," Moza said. "Again, we are indebted to you."

Meetra grinned. "Just don't make it a habit." She left the vivarium and moved through the common area to Habat's door. She tapped the key against the reader and stepped through the door.

Chodo Habat was on his knees in the center of the room; two mercs held blasters to his head. The mercenary leader stood back and to one side; he was holding a vibro double-blade in an attack stance. "Listen carefully, 'Jedi.' We're walking out of here. I'm taking the hammerhead and the files with me. If you try to stop me, they'll blast him to pieces!"

Meetra shook her head. "You will not harm him. You will drop your weapons and surrender peacefully. You will do so _now_ , or none of you will ever leave this room."

The mercenary leader bared his teeth and Meetra moved in an eye-watering blur. The mercs holding Habat began to pull the triggers on their blasters, but they never got a shot off. Meetra brought both swords around, first lopping off their gun hands and then finishing off both mercs. The leader roared and rushed Meetra from behind. She felt him coming and whirled to block his lunge. The powerful swing knocked her backwards, but Meetra kept her feet. He swung for her throat; Meetra caught the strike on both swords. He wound up for another attack. This time, instead of blocking, Meetra dropped into a full split and slashed with both swords, cutting the man cleanly in half.

Meetra stood and sheathed her swords. Habat also got to his feet. "I never imagined Czerka would resort to this! They will stop at nothing to sabotage our efforts. But this time they have gone too far. If the Telosian authorities are told about this, they will surely have no choice but to take action." He looked over Meetra's shoulder and smiled. "Ah, Moza, you are safe!"

"Yes, thanks to Meetra," said Moza, walking in with Soka Linu. "I am glad to see you are unharmed."

"This is awful." Habat looked around at the three mercs killed in front of him. "So many have died today. It is a pity that we could not make them see the truth."

"Oh, good riddance," Moza said disdainfully. "Just toss them on the compost heap with the rest of the garbage."

Habat shook his head. "It is our way to respect all life, acolyte. You should not joy in their end."

Moza shrugged. "They would have killed us all without a second thought, Chodo. Telos would have been given wholly to Czerka, and the planet would have withered and died." He turned to Meetra. "All this would have come to pass, were it not for your intervention."

"It isn't finished yet," said Meetra quietly. She pointed to Chodo. "Get the files from wherever you hid them. Moza is going to take them straight to the authorities." Meetra turned to Linu. "Lorso's going down. You will escort Moza directly to Grenn."

Linu saluted. "Yes, ma'am." She left the room with Moza, headed for the TSF station.

Meetra turned back to Habat. "I'm afraid this is goodbye for now. I need to get to the Restoration Zone."

"Indeed," said Chodo. "May you have safe travels, until we meet again."

* * *

 **A/N: Here, Visas notices Meetra once she gains enough of a connection to the Force, not based on alignment. It doesn't make sense to me that you wouldn't be noticed if you were an incredibly powerful neutral. As always, please leave a review!**


	11. Telos Surface, part one

**Disclaimer: The badass engineer with the repulsor arm isn't mine either.**

* * *

 **Continuity Note: If you read Chapter 10: Telos, part six before 5 p.m. EST on 6/13, you need to go back and read it again. I had to reshuffle the chapters and the last bit on Citadel Station is there now.**

* * *

The Ithorians had prepped a _Ministry_ -class orbital shuttle, and stocked it with equipment and supplies for a week on the surface. Meetra and the others finally got aboard about three in the morning. Atton lifted them off and unfolded the wings as they left the docking bay. He banked left and came about to a trajectory for Restoration Zone 31. Atton checked his instruments. "We'll be on the ground in two hours," he said, "so the sun will be coming up. The Ithorians had a station down here, but Czerka has taken it over. I'll try to find a clearing where we can set down and hide the shuttle, and we can go from there."

Meetra took a seat where she could see out the front window. The planet was wasteland of blast craters and bare rock beneath a roiling atmosphere of corrosive compounds. The occasional pile of rubble marked the locations where a city had once stood. The devastated landscape ended abruptly at a force field projected between tall silver emitter towers; the far side was a verdant landscape of green hills, waterways, and mountains. Atton descended to treetop level as they passed above the barrier. He scanned the ground, looking for a likely place to land.

Suddenly, they came over a ridge to see a cluster of buildings below. A hail of green blaster bolts reached up from the ground. They were thrown around the cabin as the shuttle was rocked by an impact. "What the hell?" Atton yelled, "Someone's shooting at us!" He began evading as best he could, but the slow-moving shuttle was hit repeatedly. Atton angled the shuttle to glide as best he could. They plummeted toward a series of rolling hills just inside the shield wall. Atton desperately tried to level the craft as they approached a meadow. Meetra saw the ground rushing up and everything went black.

* * *

The sound of the wind told Meetra she wasn't dead. She was sore all over, and her head was throbbing. She opened her eyes and saw a pair of legs-someone was standing over her. Meetra scrambled to her feet and winced as her bruised body cried out.

"Good to have you back, General," the man said evenly. His voice was soft, comforting, and somehow familiar.

"My head… feels like I've been ripped in half," groaned Meetra. She took a moment to look the man over. He was a tall, heavily muscled Zabrak with gray-green skin and eight short horns on his bald head. He had a strong chin, prominent brow, and a faint pattern of geometric tattoos on his face. He wore a tight-fitting teal shirt, navy trousers and black work boots, as well as a tool belt and utility harness. He was missing his left arm just above the elbow; a cybernetic hand was connected to his stump via a blue-green repulsor beam. A small, spherical remote droid hovered above his left shoulder.

"Easy now," he said. "You survived one spectacular crash. Lucky I was here to pull you and your friends out of that shuttle or you'd be more than a little crispy." He smiled. "But it's only fair, I owe you more than one, General."

Meetra shook her head, confused. "Do I know you? Your voice is familiar, but…" She trailed off.

He nodded. "You must be in shock from the crash. Have to expect some long-term memory loss from that." He turned to the remote. "Too bad she's not a droid, huh?"

The remote beeped and buzzed a reply and the Zabrak chuckled. "We can't all be that lucky." He turned back. "I'll humor you, General. I was one of the Iridonian mechanic corps that was at Malachor. Bao-Dur?" He raised his eyebrows. "I can see how you'd forget me, being that I was the only one."

Memories rushed in; Meetra saw the ships twisting and burning, heard screams piercing her ears. _Malachor…_ She took a deep breath. "I remember, now."

Bao-Dur held up a hand. "Don't think too hard. I'd rather not talk about the war if we could. We all went through some tough times after Malachor, and maybe we all did a little forgetting."

Meetra glanced down at Atton and Kreia, still lying on the ground. "How are the others?"

"They'll be fine," Bao-Dur said. "The pilot's more or less unharmed and the old lady, well, she's tougher than she looks." He looked at Meetra suspiciously. "You know, I never thought I'd see you again, General. Galaxy's a big place, and this is the last place I thought I'd bump into you. So I have to ask, just what are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for my ship," replied Meetra.

Bao-Dur nodded. "Got some news for you, General. That shuttle of yours is done for-scrap."

They both turned as Atton groaned and stood painfully. "Well, this is familiar. Feels like my last time on Telos."

"Crashed a shuttle that time, too?" asked Bao-Dur.

"No, pazaak," Atton quipped.

"That was not the most pleasant landing I've endured," said Kreia, getting to her feet. "Next time, we should perhaps seek out a more reputable pilot."

"You're welcome, Kreia," Atton snapped. "You know, if I weren't such a crack pilot, we could have hit the shield wall or one of those rock faces."

"Yes, our current situation is a vast improvement," Kreia said snidely.

 _We need to focus_. Meetra crossed her arms. "What shot us down?"

Atton frowned. "Beats me. No one's supposed to be here but a Czerka research team. I can't say they'd be happy to see us, but shooting us down? I can't imagine Czerka having us shot down by a bunch of scientists, either." He thought for a moment. "You know, I caught a glimpse of what looked like an AD tower when we flew over the compound."

"Why would a research station have an air defense tower?" Meetra asked.

"Maybe they're doing something they shouldn't be," said Atton. "I've seen pirate bases with the sort of same set-up."

"They are," said Bao-Dur, "illegal salvage, I think. The compound is set up near an old Republic military base. I've seen a lot of activity-people going in and out, lots of shuttle traffic. I was trying to find out more when the mercs grabbed me. I got away, and then I saw you crash."

"We need to find our ship," Meetra said.

Bao-Dur nodded. "I can help you find it-I have access to the shield network. I came hoping to repair whatever damage your shuttle took, but not even I can fix that wreck. The Czerka may have a transport at the compound we can steal, but it won't be an easy hike." He turned to look across the field to the east. "First, there's the mercenary pursuit team looking for me. There's also more mercs at the compound. Second, there's all the cannoks."

Meetra frowned. "What's a cannok?"

"The vicious, wide-jawed predators the Ithorians imported from Dxun," said Bao-Dur. "They were meant to keep the herbivore population in check."

Atton raised his eyebrows. "I don't see any herbivores around."

Bao-Dur nodded. "Right. The cannoks ate them all. Now, they'll eat anything they can catch, including us. Without the Ithorians to maintain the accelerated ecosystem's balance, everything here is falling apart. Czerka's killing the Restoration Project piecemeal."

"We need to get going," said Meetra. "Let's check the shuttle for anything that we can use, then get moving."

Between the crash and subsequent fire, the shuttle was in bad shape. The camping equipment was gone, and so were nearly all the consumables. They were able to recover their gear and a few canteens of water; they had to get to the compound. They began hiking east, across the meadow towards a ridgeline.

* * *

They had been moving for perhaps half an hour when a high-pitched whine caught everyone's attention. They looked around for the source of the sound; Atton pointed to the northeast. "There!" A small, winged droid flew into view from behind a ridgeline, heading directly toward the crash site. It overflew them, then climbed to circle overhead.

"A sentry droid," said Bao-Dur. "The mercenary pursuit team is probably not far behind." As he said it, a speeder came into view through a saddle in the ridge. It stopped a short distance away and four armed men climbed out.

"We could try handing the Zabrak over. You know, bargaining chip," Atton suggested.

Bao-Dur shot him an amused smile. "Who do you think shot you down in the first place?"

"Good point," said Atton. "Forget I said anything."

The Czerka mercs began moving in. Meetra drew her blades and offered the short sword to Bao-Dur. He shook his head and flexed his repulsor arm meaningfully. Meetra nodded and got into a fighting stance. The merc leader raised a force pike. "Get them all!"

Atton yelled a warning as the sentry droid swooped in, firing two small blasters. Kreia zapped the droid, which spun out of control into the ground. The mercs charged; Meetra and Bao-Dur ran to meet them. He fought with raw power, not technique. Bao-Dur blocked attacks with his left arm, then delivered bone-cracking hits with his right fist. The merc leader took him on; the Zabrak simply grabbed the force pike and yanked it out of the merc's hands. Meetra and Kreia moved in to help out, but they weren't needed. With only his repulsor arm, Bao-Dur was a capable fighter. Armed with the pike, he was a force of nature. He spun the staff-like weapon, bashing one merc in the head with the heavy club end. A second mercenary moved to stab him in the back, but the remote zipped in and staggered him with a cutting beam. Bao-Dur turned and slashed the merc with the pike's vibro-tip. The other two fell in less than a minute under Bao-Dur's furious onslaught.

"Damn." Atton looked over the fallen Czerka troops. "Nice work."

"I try not to disappoint," said Bao-Dur. "We should move quickly. If we're lucky, we can slip into the base while most of the Czerka are out searching for us." He looked at the empty speeder and frowned. "I'd love to steal this, but we'd be too easy to track. We're better off on foot." He began hiking east; the others quickly followed.

They hadn't gotten far when they heard a growl. A medium-sized animal trotted into view. It had a bloated yellow-green body, two eyes on stalks, and a mouth full of shark-like teeth.

"Cannok," said Bao-Dur. "He's smelled the blood from our fight with the mercs. He'll avoid us, unless…" As he said it, more of the creatures joined the first.

"Unless he's part of a pack," groaned Atton. The cannoks attacked, snarling; Atton began shooting as the creatures rushed in. He got two before the pack was on them. The fight was a wild melee; they slashed and stabbed while trying to avoid the cannoks' snapping jaws. Meetra blasted several of the vicious predators backwards, buying herself some room to work. One of the little beasts leapt at Kreia's throat; the old woman impaled the cannok on her vibroblade. Bao-Dur was staggered off-balance as a cannok bit down on his mechanical hand. He swung the animal around, hurling it more than ten meters into a tree. They killed five more cannoks and the stragglers ran off.

Bao-Dur grimaced. "That cost us time; now we need to pick up the pace. It's not too far now-the compound is in the next valley." The group broke into a trot. They came out into a wide field, with a sandy beach at one edge and a hill rising at the other. A path wound through a stand of trees and uphill to a pass.

Meetra was heading for the path when Atton grabbed her arm. "Wait! It's defended." He pointed. "There are two turrets mounted at the top of the pass, and they have the path fully covered. The grass on the slope looks odd, too; I'll bet there is a minefield in front of the turrets."

Meetra nodded. "Kreia and I can disrupt the mines and turrets with the Force. That should get us through."

Another sentry droid whipped overhead. Two speeders came over the pass and descended into the field. Ten mercs began to spread out from the vehicles, readying swords and rifles. Atton swore and drew his blaster. The mercs opened fire, forcing Meetra and the others to scatter. Atton dropped prone behind a small rise in the terrain and began firing back. He killed one and wounded two more. The sentry came in to strafe Atton's position. He rolled to avoid the flier and lined up a shot as it zoomed by. Atton fired twice, hitting the sentry's power pack. The droid exploded in a shower of sparks. Meetra drew on the Force and dashed in at the mercs. She was on one of the shooters before he could bring his rifle around. Meetra cut him down and moved on to another mercenary even as Kreia and Bao-Dur joined her. A second rifleman dodged Meetra's blades but Atton blasted him in the chest. Bao-Dur took on three mercs at once. He killed two of them, but the fight took him into range of the turrets. The Zabrak had to scramble to keep from being hit as the guns opened up. The merc stepped in and slashed Bao-Dur in the side. He roared in pain and caved in the merc's skull with his pike. Meetra and Kreia finished off the rest fighting as a pair. Kreia walked to the edge of the minefield and disabled the turrets; Atton destroyed them with pistol fire.

Meetra closed her eyes. As she concentrated, she could feel the mines, just as she had felt the droids on Peragus. She shot a push and one mine blew. She ripped another out of the ground and hurled it into the lake. Buoyed by her success, Meetra advanced into the minefield, taking out the explosives one by one. Kreia nodded. "Well done."

Meetra tossed a final mine away. "The compound is less than half a kilometer away. Let's get there." The group began climbing the path back to the Czerka base.

* * *

Meetra reached the top of the pass and looked down at the Czerka compound. A cluster of pre-fab buildings had been erected on the valley floor near the Republic base entrance. Meetra could see barracks, a workshop, and… "There's the landing pad," said Bao-Dur. "There should be a computer terminal I can access from there." He pointed. "Looks like we're going to have to fight our way there, though. Look sharp."

A large force of Czerka troops was waiting around the base, more than twenty men with two more turrets mounted on the pad. The lead merc was wearing the same sort of armor that Meetra and Grenn had seized from Samhan, and carrying a silvery disruptor rifle. "What do we have here… the 'Jedi.' Saves us the trouble of looking for ya." He smiled. "Corrun Falt did say you were dangerous… maybe he does know what he's talking about. He hired me to keep everyone out of the Restoration Zone… you in particular."

Meetra rolled her eyes. "So, Falt gets Lorso's job, and now here's the double-cross." She spun her swords into an attack stance. "We need access to the shield network, and transportation. We've carved our way through everything Czerka threw at us; now Slusk is dead and Lorso's in jail. If you're smart, you'll just stand aside. You can't spend your pay if you're dead."

"We'll see," said the mercenary commander. "You may have caught a few of my boys off-guard… but let's see how you fight now, 'Jedi.'" He brought up his rifle and fired.

Meetra drew on the Force and jumped over the merc leader, slashing down on one of the other thugs behind him. Kreia bowled several more over with a powerful push and Bao-Dur moved in with his pike. The turrets began firing; Atton returned fire, but these turrets were shielded. As her first opponent fell, Meetra charged in at the leader. He sidestepped and clubbed her in the back of the head with his rifle. Meetra fell to the ground, momentarily stunned. The leader was bringing the rifle around to finish her when Bao-Dur hit him in the back. The thug stumbled and Meetra stabbed him in the gut. Bao-Dur ran up and grabbed the rifle. He began hitting the shielded turrets as Meetra headed over to join Kreia. Atton shifted fire to the Czerka riflemen. Several mercs drew vibroblades and came after Meetra and Kreia; the pair fought them off shoulder to shoulder. The Czerka turrets exploded and Bao-Dur helped Atton finish off the shooters.

Bao-Dur slung his new rifle and walked to a small building near the shuttle pad. "This is where they were holding me. My belongings should be nearby." A little searching, and they found a footlocker containing basic tools and a suit of Zabrak field armor. Bao-Dur donned the armor, then loaded his tool belt and harness and buckled them back on. They headed up the ramp to the Czerka shuttle pad. A computer terminal stood on the pad's back edge. "Hopefully, I'll be able to access the shield network from this console," said Bao-Dur, typing. "Good. It's functional, and my access codes still work. Now let's find your ship."

Meetra frowned. "The TSF said the _Ebon Hawk_ wasn't at any sanctioned landing site," Meetra said.

"The TSF probably thinks the ship was put down in the wastes," Bao-Dur replied, "but they don't know the planet as well as I do. Telos' atmosphere has been turned into acidic vapor. Landing a ship in the wastes would be like sealing it in a hangar full of hungry mynocks."

"I'd say there's probably an illegal landing site somewhere then," said Atton.

Bao-Dur nodded. "Has to be. Still shielded, but not a Restoration Zone or other listed facility. That's why I needed access to the shield network." He turned back to the terminal and pointed. "Here-a small anomaly in the shield network's power grid. I'm not surprised the TSF didn't spot this. It's subtle, more like an error or random flux than anything suspicious."

"What is it?" Meetra asked.

"It looks like power is being drawn to generate a shield over a small area in the polar region, but nothing should be down there." Bao-Dur scratched the base of one of his horns. "Orbital cameras show nothing, just an empty mesa."

Kreia turned to Meetra. "We should investigate this. I feel this is the best bet of finding the _Ebon Hawk_."

Meetra nodded agreement. "How are we going to get to the polar region?"

"That's a little tougher." Bao-Dur bent over the console. "According to the computer, a shuttle is currently docked inside the Republic base. At least, there was at last report."

Meetra nodded grimly. "So we don't know that the shuttle will still be there, or working."

"We don't, but that's not going to stop me," said Bao-Dur. "I'm getting out of here if I have to build a new ship myself." He took a breath. "There's one other small problem. Recently, Czerka teams that were sent into the military facility have not been coming out."

"Small problem," quipped Atton.

"Let's go," said Meetra. They all headed down the ramp to the Republic bunker door.

* * *

The underground bunker looked pretty much like the other fortified Republic facilities Meetra had been in. The walls and floors were plasteel panels over durasteel plate, painted in varying shades of gray. The inner entrance was sealed with a force field. Bao-Dur walked up to the barrier. "This arm of mine isn't just for show, General. Stand back." He delivered a tremendous punch to the force field, which flickered and went out. Atton whistled, impressed. Bao-Dur grinned. "The Czerka mercenaries were a little surprised when I broke my way out of my holding cell. The shields there were even weaker than these." He indicated Meetra. "After you, General."

They moved down a hallway, which opened into a mid-sized room. As they walked in, several turrets popped up out of recesses in the floor and opened fire. Atton dove back through the door. Bao-Dur unlimbered his rifle and began slamming bolts into the turrets. Kreia scrambled one turret for Atton to finish off. Meetra smiled, amused: She hadn't even got her swords out before the battle was over. She shrugged and headed further in. The hallway continued through a workshop area, with the entrance to the hangar on the far side. They were in the center of the floor when the doors slammed shut and a hissing sound filled the room. "Gas!" yelled Atton.

Meetra reached into her knapsack and pulled out the breathing mask from Peragus. She placed it to her face and took a long breath. "We have to move, _right now!_ Here, Atton get a breath." She handed Atton the mask; he got a lungful of clean air and passed the mask to Bao-Dur. The gas was now thick enough to be visible as a fine green mist. Bao-Dur got to work on the doors as the four handed the mask around. In a minute or so, they got the inner door open.

The only problem was, the hangar was also filled with gas, and now it was so thick it was hard to see. Bao-Dur looked around, blinking as the gas began to sting his eyes. "The hangar control room should have a console where I can access the security system." They stumbled through the green cloud until they found the control room; Bao-Dur began typing. It took several long, tense minutes, but eventually, the console chimed and fans whirred to life. The gas was quickly pulled out of the air, revealing a _Ministry_ shuttle sitting on the pad.

"There she is. One orbital shuttle… looks like it's in serviceable condition." Bao-Dur shook his head. "That's all a moot point, though." He pointed upward. "The hangar bay doors are closed. I don't fancy flying the shuttle through solid metal, so I'd say we need to find a way to get them open." He did some more typing and frowned. "The base is running on emergency generators; they don't provide enough power to operate the hangar doors. We'll need to get the reactor online. I managed to override the gas vents, but there may be other security measures further in. We should be ready for anything."

Meetra stretched her sore muscles. "Okay, then. I guess we don't get to relax just yet." She began moving further into the base, beckoning the others to follow her. The corridor led past a living area, which was where they found the dead Czerka mercs. At least two squads had been killed along the hallway and in the side rooms. The group shifted into a fighting formation without really thinking about it; Meetra led the way with Kreia to her right and slightly behind, and Bao-Dur and Atton following. Meetra opened a door, was met with a hail of blaster fire, and closed it quickly. "Heavy battle droids, and turrets backing them up." She turned to the others. "Ready?" She saw nods from the group and hit the door control. Kreia shocked one droid as Meetra slashed another apart. Atton and Bao-Dur took the turrets, starting at opposite sides of the room. A droid was turning to engage Meetra when Kreia took its head off from behind. Atton took out a second turret; a droid knocked him to the ground and he cried out in pain. Meetra blew the droid into a wall and finished it. She ran over to the fallen pilot. "What's hurt, Atton?"

He grimaced and indicated his knee. "It's a ligament tear, I'm sure of it. We don't have any kolto, do we?"

Meetra knelt beside him. "Let me try something." She laid one hand on his knee, closed her eyes, and concentrated. It took some effort, but she could feel Atton's leg, and pinpoint the injury. She pulsed the Force through her hand and into the damaged tissue, which began to knit. Atton sighed as the pain evaporated. He rolled to his hands and knees, then stood up carefully. He tested his leg, then smiled. "Thanks, Meetra."

She smiled. "Don't mention it."

They began moving down the hallway towards the reactor controls. Another force field blocked the passage ahead. The room on the far side held the droid recharging stations; more than a dozen droids waited on the other side, weapon arms up and blasters aimed. Bao-Dur smirked. "Too easy." He brought up the disruptor rifle and began firing right through the force field. Three droids fell in less than a minute; the others began firing, trying to wear down the shield so they could attack. The droids couldn't even dent the force field, so they tried to retreat. Atton began to laugh as the droids scrambled over each other to get out of the line of fire. There was no real cover in the room, so the machines had nowhere to run. In less than three minutes, the way was clear.

Atton thumped Bao-Dur in the shoulder. "I'd say well done, but come on, they were fish in a barrel."

Bao-Dur raised his eyebrows. "Would you rather they were shooting back?"

Atton grinned. "You know what, I wouldn't."

Bao-Dur jerked his head. "The reactor room is at the end of this corridor. We start it up, then fly to the polar region." They continued to the reactor control room at the end of the hall. Bao-Dur worked for a few moments, then they all heard a whir as the reactor came online. He double-checked the readouts. "All good here. Main power is functioning normally. We should now be able to open the bay doors and leave in the shuttle."

The group moved through the empty bunker back towards the hangar. On the way, they began to hear a low, pounding sound. As they moved, it got louder, and the floor began to shake with each thud. Atton glanced at Meetra. "I've got a bad feeling about this." They inched forward, weapons at the ready. As they reached the door to the hangar control room, a huge tank droid stomped into view. Atton groaned. "I hate it when I'm right."

The big droid tracked Meetra with its twin blaster cannon and fired. Meetra backflipped and took cover around a corner in the hallway. Atton and Bao-Dur began shooting, but the droid's armor plate was just too thick. It opened up with a flamethrower, forcing the two men behind a large cargo box. Kreia struck the droid with blue lightning; it staggered but kept firing. A panel opened on the droid's front and it launched a grenade at Kreia. She ran into the control room to avoid the blast. Atton popped out and fired into the droid's blaster array, damaging its targeting sensors. The droid fired at him but missed. Atton kept moving and aimed at the droid's photoreceptors high atop its chassis. The tank droid stomped hard, shaking the floor and throwing Atton off balance. Bao-Dur leaned out from behind the box and took a shot at the droid's leg joint. It responded with a concussion grenade. The blast knocked the rifle out of Bao-Dur's hands and sent it sliding across the floor. Meetra threw her own shock attack and the droid froze for a moment. Bao-Dur ran in, bent his knees and took a tremendous jump. He cocked his left arm and landed a devastating punch to the droid's control cluster. The machine went over backward and crashed to the floor, unable to move.

Meetra's mouth fell open and she glanced at Kreia, who nodded slightly. Meetra shrugged and walked up to the Zabrak. "Nice left hook you've got there."

"Nice?" Atton spluttered. "That was the greatest punch I've ever seen-he just knocked out a tank droid!"

Bao-Dur smiled slightly. "Feel free to buy the first round, next cantina we get to."

"Sure thing," chuckled Atton. "Let's get the bay open and get out of here."

* * *

 **A/N: I don't think the game did a good enough job of informing the player that Bao-Dur is Force Sensitive. The others all have a moment where it is plain as day. I missed making him a Jedi the first three times I played through the game, because I didn't see the need to raise influence rapidly, meaning he wasn't in the party all that much.**


	12. Telos Surface, part two

**Disclaimer: Knights of the Old Republic was created by Lucasarts and BioWare, then expanded on by Obsidian Entertainment.**

* * *

The shuttle was in the air in a few minutes. They flew through the night; Atton and Meetra each took a shift at the controls so everyone got some rest. When Meetra got up the next morning, the shuttle was soaring over snow-covered mountains. Atton told her they had just entered the shielded area and were about five minutes from landing. They came over a ridge and Meetra saw the mesa. It was a tall, roughly cylindrical rock hill with a flat top. Four tall, thin rock spires stood around it. _It almost looks like…_ Meetra brushed aside the thought.

As Atton banked the shuttle to land on the mesa, a smoke trail suddenly raced upward towards them. Atton didn't have time for evasive maneuvers. The missile hit at the port wing root, damaging the wing and engines. Atton fought with the controls, trying to raise the nose as they plunged toward the mesa. "Damn!" he swore, "Everyone brace for impact, brace now!" The shuttle hit the ground and plowed forward through the deep snow. The world was reduced to a chaotic rush of black and white.

Meetra opened her eyes and blinked as snow blew into her face. It didn't feel like she'd been out for more than twenty or thirty seconds. She rolled to her hands and knees in the snow and looked around. They'd been thrown through the shuttle windscreen. To either side of her, Atton and Kreia were also getting their bearings. Bao-Dur was lying face-up a little closer to the shuttle; he wasn't moving, and Meetra couldn't tell how badly off he was. Meetra looked towards where the missile had come from; her heart sank as she saw three familiar-looking droids.

"Irritated declaration: There you are," said the HK-50 in the center. "It has been extremely difficult to track you down, Jedi."

"Quick clarification: But now that we have found you, we hope that we can facilitate communications," continued the droid on the right.

"Unnecessary addendum: And put an end… to hostilities," finished the HK on the left.

Meetra shook her head incredulously. "How many of you are there?"

"Chiding statement: Oh, Jedi, there are as many of us as are needed to capture or kill our targets," said an HK.

"Egotistical boast: And there are far more of us than any one Jedi," said another. "Destroy one of us, and more shall rise from the wreckage."

The HKs all raised their rifles. "Unnecessary threat: And our attack protocols are more than a match for you-and your allies."

Meetra's mind raced. _I can't shock three at once. Force jump or speed won't help against assassin droids; I'll get hit before I close the distance. Kark it! If I had my lightsaber, I could take all three of them..._

Atton made his move, throwing a grenade and diving to the ground. One of the droids shot the grenade out of the air; the others began firing at the crash site. Meetra realized that the HKs expected her to close in. Instead, she jumped sideways, reached out with the Force, and pulled Bao-Dur's rifle to her. Kreia zapped one of the assassins, then took cover behind a piece of the shuttle. Meetra and Atton came up firing and dropped the shocked droid. Kreia stood and blasted a push towards the droids. They didn't take any real damage, but both were knocked over. That was all the opening Meetra needed; she sprinted in headlong and cut down both HKs before they could get back up.

Meetra moved to check on Bao-Dur. He was unconscious, likely a bad concussion, and his arm was powered down, but he was alive. Meetra got him into the shuttle wreck and wrapped him in a foil survival blanket. "We need to find help, and fast. Bao-Dur needs medical attention."

"Not to mention, we'll all freeze if we're out here much longer," said Atton. He pointed. "There's a hatchway over there-must be something inside this mesa, maybe another bunker. In any case, it's our only way out of the blizzard."

Meetra nodded. "Let's check it out, then get Bao-Dur inside."

They moved across the snowy tableland to the hatch and got it open. Inside was a small entryway and another door. Meetra opened it to find six tall young women waiting on the other side. They all had white hair and silver eyes, wore identical white bodysuits with hoods, and were armed with telescoping metal staves. One advanced two steps. "Lay down your weapons and you shall not be harmed."

Atton dropped into a fighting stance. Meetra held out a hand to stop him. "We're not here to fight. I have an injured man out in the storm-he needs help."

Atton didn't move. "Meetra, we don't know who they are."

"I will not warn you again," the woman said firmly. "Drop your weapons, or we will take them from you."

"Do as they say," said Kreia calmly, "I sense we will come to no harm."

Meetra unbuckled her swords and set them on the floor; Kreia followed suit. "Bao-Dur can't wait. Atton, _do it_ -the knife too."

He waited one tense moment longer, then sighed and nodded. Atton pulled his pistol and knife and tossed them to the ground. The leader of the women gestured; one of them walked forward to take the weapons while two others headed out the door. The leader nodded curtly. "Come with us." She turned, and led the way further into the building.

* * *

Atton and Kreia were separated from Meetra and led into a detention area. They were placed into force cages; Bao-Dur was brought in and placed in a third cage, unconscious but with his wounds treated. The white-clad guards left; Atton threw up his hands. "Why is it that everywhere we go I end up in a cell? I mean, why did they lock us up? What is this place?"

"It is a training ground," said Kreia, "For Jedi."

"What? This ice hole?" Atton said doubtfully.

Kreia nodded. "Yes, it bears the semblance of an academy… but where are all the students? Curious."

Atton shook his head. "You've got to be joking. What is a Jedi Academy doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"It is a place hidden from the galaxy," replied Kreia, "like the academy on Dantooine. But this place…" She smiled at some private joke. "Oh, Atris, you have been clever."

"Well, the sooner we're outta here, the better," said Atton. "Two crazy Jedi are more than enough for me. No one told me we were going to be dumped in a nest of Jedi."

Kreia scrutinized Atton closely. "And what is it about this place that causes you such fear?"

"What do you mean?" Atton snapped. "We're in the middle of a bunch of Jedi. You know how they are."

"No, I do not…" Kreia said slowly, "not in the way you seem to."

Atton put both hands to his temples. "What… what are you doing? Get out of my head!"

"Stop struggling," whispered Kreia. "Let me follow the current, deep… deeper… to its source."

Atton was bent double, gritting his teeth. "Stop, stop!" He grunted with pain as Kreia broke into his psyche.

"Ah, with the fear, is mingled… guilt," Kreia said calmly. "It squirms in you like a worm. And the why, ah, there is its heart." She smiled thinly. "You surprise me-I could not feel it before. Your feelings are a powerful shield, indeed. Do not worry, 'Atton.' If she is a Jedi, she will forgive. And if she is not, she will not care."

"You can't tell her!" cried Atton. "Please, I'm asking you. I don't want her to-"

"Think less of you?" laughed Kreia. "I hardly think that's possible." She cocked her head as she thought. "Still, there is no shame in what you ask. We all wage war with the past. And it leaves its scars. I will not speak of yours, Atton, but there is a price for such things."

Atton frowned. "What? What price?"

Kreia crossed her arms. "There are those who wage war, and those who follow them. You are a crude thing, murderer, but you have your uses. You know how important this woman we travel with is-even one such as you can feel it. You will serve her, until I release you."

"And if I refuse?" Atton asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You will not," Kreia said quietly. "If you do, then my silence will be broken. And then, Atton, you will be broken. You fear the Jedi and rightly so. If Atris learns of your… choices, you will never leave this place." She fixed him with a stare, her milky-white eyes boring into his. "But whatever fear you hold of the Jedi, know that if you disobey me, that my punishment will make you beg for the death that has long hounded you." She smiled. "Wipe the fear from your mind. You will not find blind obedience a difficult master. You chose it once, you will learn to embrace it again."

Atton shook his head. "I don't know how you became such a manipulative witch, but why a vicious old scow like yourself would even bother with me is a bigger mystery."

Kreia shrugged. "No game of dejarik can be won without pawns, and this may prove to be a very long game. You are a slippery one, your thoughts difficult for even one such as I to read. I suspect the self-loathing that squirms within you gives you a curious strength. Your spirit, diseased as it is, refuses to allow you to give up, no matter what threats you face… and whatever wreckage you leave behind you." She wagged her finger at him. "I feel you have crossed our path for a reason. Perhaps even you, at the right moment, may be able to turn aside disaster. If so, your potential is not yet spent."

"Fine," Atton spat, "I'll be your pawn. But I still think you've got the wrong man."

"Perhaps," said Kreia, "but someone has to fly the ship. And the Force is a hard thing to predict. You have crossed our path for a reason. Our path brought us here for a reason, and now I know why. The past is here, and it must be met before the future can be set in motion."

"More Jedi speak," said Atton, annoyed. "Care to explain?"

"No-I have wasted enough time with you," Kreia said. She waved a hand, and Atton collapsed, unconscious. "Sleep, murderer, and be silent. I need no distractions." She turned to look towards the door. "A critical moment approaches."

* * *

Meetra walked along a hallway deep inside the mesa. She flinched as she entered a circular room. It was instantly recognizable as a Jedi Council chamber: chairs in a circle, and a stone spire in the center. On the far side, a bridge over a chasm led up to a door set into the living rock. It opened, and another woman walked along the bridge toward Meetra. This woman was different-she was older, and wore the white-and-silver robes of a Jedi archivist. Meetra's jaw dropped as the woman drew closer. It was a face Meetra remembered well: ivory-white skin, high cheekbones, pointed chin, and ice-blue eyes. _Atris… oh, this is going to be bad._

"I did not expect to see you again after the day of your sentencing." Atris' voice was harsh and cold. "I thought you had taken the exile's path, wandering the galaxy. Yet you have returned-why?"

Meetra raised a hand. "Tell me what you have done with my friends first."

"Your concern is noted," Atris said. "Your friends have not been harmed. They have been detained, for their safety." She walked up to Meetra. "I find it unusual that you are traveling with others again. I had thought you had forsaken the company of others after the war. Or is that why you are here?"

Meetra dropped her arms to her sides. "It was not my intention to come here, Atris-or see you again."

Atris sniffed. "Yet here you are. Perhaps you do not know yourself as well as you think. Regardless, your arrival here begs an explanation." She crossed her arms. "Have you come to face the judgment of the Council, as you did so many years ago? Are you finally willing to admit that we were right to cast you out?"

Meetra shook her head. "I could not stand by and allow innocents to die in the Outer Rim."

Atris began walking a slow circle around the room. "The Jedi Council asked only for time to examine the Mandalorian threat. They urged caution, patience. And you defied them." She came to a stop facing Meetra. "So when you returned, you were brought before us. You were a Jedi no longer. And so you were exiled."

"My punishment could have been worse," said Meetra. "For that, I am grateful."

Atris nodded. "There was much about that day that was difficult to forget-your words, your defiance-and when you stabbed your lightsaber into the center stone." She drew the silver hilt from her robes and ignited the cyan blade. "I have kept it, so I would never forget."

Meetra felt a horrible lump in her throat. "I was no longer a Jedi-it was no longer mine."

"Indeed? Very well. Your exile has given you some wisdom at least." Atris crossed her arms. "So then, answer me-how did you find this place? And why have you returned after all this time?"

Meetra raised her hands defensively. "I had no idea you were here, Atris. I am looking for my ship so I can leave Telos."

Atris eyed Meetra suspiciously. "Your ship-ah, the _Ebon Hawk?_ It is not your ship. Unless you are admitting to the destruction of the Peragus mining facility."

"The destruction of Peragus was an accident," said Meetra.

"Ah… an accident. Something beyond your control," spat Atris. "You have not changed. Acting instead of thinking. Putting yourself before the galaxy, before the Jedi. Do you know what you have done?"

Meetra nodded. "The fuel shortage puts Telos in jeopardy. Without fuel, Citadel Station's orbit will start to degrade, and the Restoration could be canceled."

Atris shook her head. "Telos was a test, to see if the Republic could mount a restoration effort on the Outer Rim. When it fails, the Republic will not finance another. The other Rim worlds devastated by the Sith will remain graveyard worlds, devoid of life. And that is the magnitude of your crime."

"My crime?" Meetra said angrily, "the Sith destroyed Peragus, not me."

"The Sith?" said Atris, "what do you mean?"

"The Sith came for me on Peragus, to kill me," Meetra replied.

"You speak truly… you have encountered the Sith. I can feel the scars on you." Atris put her hands on her hips. "And you encountered them on Peragus? But what would they want there? They can't have been looking for you."

"They were," said Meetra, "and not just the Sith. There is a bounty on Jedi, and someone is sending assassin droids after me. One was at Peragus, and three more just shot my shuttle down-you'll find their remains on top of the mesa. They believe me to be the last Jedi."

"There are no more Jedi, except I," snapped Atris. "Like you, they turned from the Order, and now only I remain. If these Sith attacked you, they will soon realize their mistake. And if you escaped, they most likely let you go, to see if you would lead them here."

Meetra nodded slowly. "If so, then I offer my help. You'll need it."

"You offer your aid?" Atris asked incredulously, "after turning your back on me… on the Council? The Jedi is not something you embrace out of fear. The commitment is stronger than that, something you never seemed to understand."

"You can't do this alone," said Meetra, "I offer my assistance." She hesitated for a long moment. "And… I wish to earn the right to carry my lightsaber again."

"Become a Jedi again?" Atris asked sharply. "That is a thing far out of reach. But I am not unsympathetic to your feelings. Leaving the Order must have been difficult for you." She stood silently, thinking. "But you are correct. I cannot do what must be done alone. There are others in the galaxy who once called themselves Jedi. Take your ship, seek them out. If you can find them, encourage them to gather on Dantooine-from there, we can call a Council and see what can be done."

"I'll gather what help I can and assemble them on Dantooine," said Meetra.

"Then I shall send you on your way," Atris said, gesturing. "It is now time for you to depart."

Three of the handmaidens entered the chamber from behind Meetra. "We shall remove her, Mistress," said one. She beckoned to Meetra. "Come with us."

Two of the guards escorted Meetra from the chamber; the third remained standing before Atris. "Are you all right, Mistress?"

Atris sighed heavily. "The exile reminded me of something… I had forgotten."

"Forgive me, Mistress, but I must ask," said the guard. "The exile… I have never seen another effect you so strongly. Was she important to you, once?"

"We all have our heroes," Atris said quietly. "And when we watch them fall, we die inside. She made a choice once… and I did not." She glanced down the hallway where Meetra had just disappeared from view. "The day we judged her, I stood in the chamber, and she was… she was so right. She was so certain of it, I doubted myself. But not now." Atris shook her head firmly. "She will never make me doubt myself again."

* * *

 **A/N: I feel sorry for Atris. She saw the right thing to do, and felt that she had no choice but to _not_ do it. She illustrates a major flaw of the Jedi Order-its hierarchy which brooks no disagreement.**


	13. Telos Surface, part three

**Disclaimer: Handmaiden (along with her sisters) is performed by the fantastic Grey DeLisle.**

* * *

The two handmaidens led Meetra to a small common area. One turned to the other. "Last, the exile will be leaving aboard her ship, on a mission for the Mistress. Make sure the freighter is properly fueled and supplied, then it will be time for combat practice."

The other guard bobbed her head. "Yes, Second." She turned to Meetra. "Is there anything you need for your journey, exile?"

"My companions," said Meetra, "where are they?"

"You will find them in the main irrigation channel room in the northern part of the plateau interior," said the handmaiden. "The particle emitters there that once governed the flow of water to Telos can double as force cages."

Meetra frowned. "I plan to set them free."

The handmaiden spread her hands nonthreateningly. "They were caged for their safety until we could determine your intent, exile. Atris cautioned us against your tactics, fearing that your allies would create a distraction. Your companions gave us little trouble, however. The male could have presented some challenge if he had resisted, but he chose not to."

"Who, Atton?" asked Meetra. _He had six of them worried?_

"He has had some Echani training," the handmaiden replied. "He masks it well, but when you were in danger, his mask dropped into a stance we know well."

 _Explains why he's so good with his hands._ Meetra cocked her head. "Where would he have gotten that training?"

The handmaiden shook her head. "I do not know. The Echani forms are known to be taught to military special forces throughout the galaxy. If the source is a mystery to you, perhaps you should ask him. It would be wise to know those you travel with."

Meetra nodded to herself. _Indeed it would._ "I am curious about a few things, if you will indulge me."

The handmaiden nodded. "Certainly-and when you are finished, I have a question for you."

"You called each other 'second,' and 'last,' before," said Meetra. "What is that about?"

"She is the second among us," the woman replied, "and I am the last of the handmaidens. I train so that one day that will no longer be true."

"Ah, I see," said Meetra. "One last thing. The handmaidens look nearly identical, except for you."

The handmaiden winced. "I honor the face of my mother. It is not something spoken of in the company of others."

Meetra put a hand to her mouth. "I apologize. I meant no offense."

"There is no need to apologize," replied the handmaiden. "You were merely remarking on something you saw-there is no wrong in that."

"Is it a sensitive subject?" Meetra asked.

The handmaiden shook her head. "It is not a sensitive subject, but a subject which requires trust, and there is none between you and I."

Meetra nodded. "Very well. Now, what did you wish to ask?"

The handmaiden hesitated for a long moment. "You have touched the Force… what does it feel like?"

"It is a difficult thing to describe," said Meetra.

"Please, I wish to know." The handmaiden's voice was tense, almost desperate.

"Ah…" Meetra chewed her lip while she thought. "Imagine listening, and hearing the heartbeat of the galaxy. I am sorry, there is far more than that, but that is truly the best I can explain it."

The handmaiden nodded. "I see. Thank you, exile. I appreciate you sharing your knowledge with me."

Meetra nodded. "If you have any further questions in the future, seek me out and ask them." The handmaiden bowed and left; Meetra continued on until she reached the impromptu prison.

* * *

Kreia spoke up as Meetra walked in. "Did you find what you came for?"

Meetra shrugged. "That depends. What was I supposed to find here?"

"There was something from your past here," said Kreia, "something unresolved. I feel we did not come to this place by chance-you were led here. This woman who resides here-she did something to you once… something that hangs upon you still?"

"She was one of the Council who cast me out of the Order," Meetra answered, "and wanted to punish me even further."

Kreia nodded. "Ah, I see it now. The act has left its marks."

"For now, at least, she and I are allies," said Meetra. "She has the _Ebon Hawk,_ and we're ready to leave."

"Very well, let us depart," said Kreia.

Meetra turned as Atton groaned from the floor of his force cage. She frowned. "Is Atton okay? He looks out cold."

"He is only sleeping," said Kreia. "It seems the journey here has fatigued him."

Meetra chuckled. "He can sleep on the ship. Let's go." She deactivated the force fields. Atton stood, somewhat groggily, and the group headed to the hangar. They entered the hangar workshop room to find T3-M4 in a stasis field of his own. T3 tooted an excited greeting.

"Well, if it isn't the one who stole the _Ebon Hawk_ ," said Atton accusingly. "Not so smug now, are you, you little thief?"

"Don't be a fool," snapped Kreia, "Atris stole the ship and the droid."

Meetra walked up to the astromech. "T3, are you all right?"

The little droid warbled sadly; Meetra shook her head. "It wasn't your fault they took the ship, T3."

T3 responded with a rapid-fire series of binary; Meetra frowned. "Wait… she downloaded what from you?"

The astromech slowed down somewhat and Meetra's eyes widened. "Your entire memory? That must have taken some time."

T3 beeped in the affirmative. "You can fill me in later," said Meetra, "let me get you out of there first." She shut down the force field and T3 rolled out to join them, and the crew headed down to the hangar.

They boarded the _Ebon Hawk,_ and Atton lifted off. The freighter climbed out of Telos' atmosphere, headed for the edge of the system. The crew gathered in the main hold, standing around the holodisplay which also served as a table at mealtime. Atton crossed his arms. "Now that we're off that dejarik board of a planet, I say that we burn sky until we see lines."

T3 began beeping and chirping; Meetra blinked. "Say again?" As she listened to T3's reply, she began to grin. "Clever, T3. Very clever." She turned to the others. "While Atris was accessing his memory, T3 reversed the link-and downloaded her archives."

T3 continued whistling in binary and Kreia frowned. "What is the machine saying?"

Meetra hesitated, then nodded to the droid. "Atris has a holorecord of the day I was exiled." T3 plugged into the holodisplay, which hummed to life.

* * *

The Jedi High Council chamber, atop the Temple on Coruscant, was always a solemn place. Today, it was even more so. The circle of seats was largely empty; only five Masters formed an arc in the east corner. Master Vrook Lamar wore the same stern expression he always did. Master Zez-Kai Ell's face was almost curious. Master Atris sat with her hands clenched together in her lap, frowning. Master Kavar was leaning forward in his chair, rubbing his chin. And Master Lonna Vash looked distressed, seemingly on the verge of tears. Meetra entered and walked over to stand before them. She walked slowly, almost in a daze, and her posture was slumped, subdued. Her face showed a jumble of emotion.

Master Vrook spoke first. "Do you know why we have called you here?"

Meetra nodded. "You have called me to answer for my crimes on Malachor V."

"As Revan summoned you, so have you returned full circle to return to the Jedi," said Master Kavar.

"Why did you defy us?" asked Master Zez-Kai. "The Jedi are guardians of the peace and have been for centuries. This call to war undermines all that we have worked for."

"Is Revan your master now?" Atris asked, "Or is in the horror you wrought at Malachor that has caused you to see the truth at last?"

Meetra took a deep breath and drew herself up to her full height. "This is the truth I see: Jedi cannot call ourselves protectors of the galaxy and guardians of the peace unless we actually protect and guard. The Mandalorians had slaughtered millions of beings, and threatened billions more." She looked from one Master to the next. "Some of you think we wanted to go to war. I have been called rash, and Revan and Malak have been called worse. You must understand that I agonized over my decision for months. I spoke to all of you, and to many others. I spent days in meditation, trying to ensure that I could make my choice with a clear mind. And in the end, I chose to follow Revan against the Mandalorians." Meetra spread her hands. "I still believe that choice was right. But after that, in battle, it wasn't so easy to know what is right. And then, I came to Malachor, and I had to make another choice. I had seen the Mandalorians fight. They don't give up, no matter how hopeless. They fight to the last ship and the last man and the last breath. I realized that unless we did something drastic, the war would go on forever." Meetra swallowed hard. "You know the rest-the mass shadow generator, how I ordered the destruction of the Mandalorian fleet. I came back because… because I am no longer sure that is the choice a Jedi would make."

The Council was silent for a moment. Kavar nodded quietly and met Meetra's eyes. "It is good you recognize this. It means you will understand why you must leave us."

"You are exiled, and you are a Jedi no longer," said Lonna. Meetra slumped.

"There is one last thing," said Vrook. "Your lightsaber. Surrender it to us."

Meetra lowered her head, tears running down her face. She ignited the cyan blade, then whirled and drove it into the obelisk in the center of the chamber. The exile turned and walked out.

Once the door was shut, Kavar turned to the other Masters. "Much defiance in that one."

"You were correct, Kavar," said Zez-Kai. "When she was here, I felt it. It was as if she was not here, more like an echo."

Lonna's voice shook. "The war has touched the youngest of the Order. Many of them have lost themselves in battle against the Mandalorians."

"We have not lost a Jedi this day," Atris said coldly. "You felt it… she has lost herself. She is no Jedi-She walked Revan's path, but she was not strong enough."

Zez-Kai sighed heavily. "I fear it is our teachings that may have led Revan to choose the path he did."

"We are not the ones who taught him," Atris retorted.

Lonna frowned. "We take responsibility, Atris, not cast blame."

"The choice of one was the choice of us all," Kavar said firmly. "Revan's teacher intended no harm. And Revan had many teachers since."

"Yet they all stem from the same source," Atris replied. "Her teachings violated the Jedi Code and lead all who listen to the dark side, as they did the exile."

"You are wrong," said Lonna. "The dark side is not what I sensed in Meetra. Surely the rest of you felt it as well. That emptiness we felt… she has changed."

Atris crossed her arms. "Whatever that wound was, it was of the dark side. We should not have let her depart. She will simply join Revan again, or perhaps worse."

"What would you have done with her, Atris?" asked Zez-Kai. "Be mindful of your feelings! This is not Revan who stood before you. This one walks a different path."

"No," agreed Kavar, "Although that may come in time. We let her go because we must. Where she travels, she carries her destination with her."

"Malachor V should have been her grave," said Atris. "You saw it in her walk, and in the Force. It was like she was already dead."

Zez-Kai shook his head. "No, not death. Many battles remain for that one, if what we have seen is true. But the future is a shifting thing, and she cuts like a blade through it."

"We should have told her the truth." Lonna wiped away a tear. "A Jedi deserves to know."

"No good would have come from it," countered Vrook, "even if what you believed was true. There is still the matter of Revan, and such truths could leave us vulnerable on two fronts."

Kavar nodded agreement. "Perhaps in many years, we will call her before us, and explain what happened to her, and how she may be healed. Until then, she must accept her journey."

"But she may never discover the truth," said Lonna. "And she will never know why we cast her out."

"Then that is the future we must accept," said Vrook.

* * *

The recording ended; Meetra was staring into the blank holodisplay, stunned. Atton shook his head. "Those Jedi sure like their secrets, don't they?"

T3 tooted mournfully. Meetra began to pull herself together. "Those last few minutes after the trial… I had no idea." She glanced down at T3. "Have you found anything else we can use?"

T3 tooted in the affirmative, then continued on for a moment. "Atris has a list of all the missing Jedi?" Meetra nodded. "Sure, display it."

T3 worked a moment, then images and names began to appear-the same faces they had just seen. Meetra winced. "Those Jedi were all on the Council that exiled me."

"A strange coincidence," said Bao-Dur.

"It is no coincidence," said Kreia. "There is some larger plan at work here." She turned to Meetra. "And we are walking into it. This is too convenient to be anything but a trap."

"Be that as it may, we need their help against the Sith," said Meetra.

"Those are Atris' records you have stolen." The last of the handmaidens walked into the hold from the direction of the boarding ramp.

"What the hell are you doing on our ship?" Atton snapped, scowling.

"I have come to join you," she said. "I can help you against this threat."

Atton crossed his arms. "Well, we don't want your help. Or any of your sisters."

"It is just me," she replied. "And I am doing this because Atris believes you will need help."

Meetra gave the handmaiden a long, measuring look, then came to a decision. "I will take whatever help I can get."

"Indeed?" Kreia said derisively. "But of course-what does one more matter to our journey?" She turned to Meetra. "I have had enough of this-I will be in my chambers."

"If she's coming with us, she gets the cargo hold," snapped Atton. "Might remind her how fun it is to get locked up."

T3 warbled uncertainly; Bao-Dur looked to Meetra. "General?"

"The cargo hold is enough," the handmaiden said quickly. "I assure you, there is little I need. I will attend to myself."

Meetra sighed. "Look, forget Atton. Take a bunk in the port dormitory, we have enough room."

"No, it's all right," said the young woman. "I understand-I am not one of you." She paused. "But thank you for your kindness."

"Your choice." Meetra tilted her head and smiled gently. "Do you have a name?"

"I prefer to be called Handmaiden," she said. "Before entering Atris' service, yes, I carried a name, as all the children of the Echani do. It is not important. My title and rank is of consequence, not my name. I take value in Atris' service, not in myself."

"Handmaiden it is, then." Meetra turned to address the crew as a whole. "To business. We need to find the missing Masters, gather them, and make a stand."

"And while we're doing that," said Atton, "we should also try very hard not to get killed. Both the Sith and those assassin droids know this ship, along with who knows how many others. We need to throw the hunters off our trail, at least for a while."

Meetra nodded. "I've been thinking about what you said on the station-about Nar Shaddaa, and getting lost. Master Zez-Kai is supposed to be there, and so is Goto, the Exchange boss who posted the bounty on Jedi. I want to deal with him, make him call off the bounty."

Atton blinked. "I'd say you were crazy to take on an Exchange boss directly, but I saw you handle Luxa and Slusk." He thought a moment. "They call Nar Shaddaa the smuggler's moon for a reason-we should be able to get the ship's transponder codes changed. That will lower our profile."

"Good idea," said Meetra. "T3, plot a course. Let's get settled in. Atton, Bao-Dur, once you've stowed your belongings, I'd like you to take a look around the ship, see what resources we have to work with."

The crew split up. Despite Meetra's protestations, Handmaiden took her bag to the cargo hold, where she set up a bed for herself. The others picked out bunks in the dormitories, with the women on the portside. Meetra placed her things into the drawers built into the bunk, then headed back to the hold. Atton and Bao-Dur were waiting. Meetra looked from one to the other. "Well?"

Bao-Dur grinned. "We couldn't ask for a better ship. Someone's upgraded most of her systems: engines, weapons, even the comm array is a Republic military set. I'm betting this was once a smuggler's vessel. We get the codes changed, and we'll be able to disappear almost anywhere. There is a full workshop, so I can do most maintenance work right on board. There's also a swoop bike in there. Might come in handy, you never know."

Atton frowned. "There is one thing you should see." He crossed the hold to a small storage room and opened the door. "Look familiar?"

Meetra gasped-it was a droid like the HK-50s which had attacked her. This one was much older; the durasteel was turning brown-orange from lack of regular cleaning and the whole droid was covered with dust. It was badly damaged; the plating was scorched, and several parts were missing. A light blaster cannon leaned against the wall behind the robot. It was missing its mounting; Meetra supposed the droid could carry it. She glanced at Atton. "Familiar indeed. This one doesn't look like it's been active for a while."

"It hasn't," said Bao-Dur. "The servos are frozen, the motivator is wrecked, and the chassis isn't much better than scrap. The memory appears intact, though. Atton told me about these things. It's too bad I didn't know this was here before we left Telos. With parts from the three that attacked us on the mesa, I could have got this one working again."

Atton shot the Zabrak a skeptical look. "And we all get shot? No thanks."

"I don't think so," Bao-Dur said slowly. "Droids shut down this long usually reset on startup-it wouldn't retain the command to attack the General. At worst, we could find out where these droids come from, who's sending them after us. At best, we have our very own assassin droid. We could use the firepower."

Meetra nodded thoughtfully. "If we run into more HK assassins, I'll consider doing a rebuild. Leave it here for now, there's nothing to be done at the moment." Atton went to the cockpit and Meetra followed Bao-Dur to look at the swoop. As they left the room, T3 rolled past the wrecked droid. He gave it a long look, tooted sadly, and continued on out of the hold.

* * *

Bao-Dur led the way into the workshop. A workbench was mounted against the forward bulkhead, with a comprehensive set of repair tools stowed and ready. The swoop bike sat against the aft bulkhead, where it could easily be moved to the boarding ramp. It had twin engines and long control vanes forward of the pilot's seat. "It's Tarisian," said Bao-Dur. "I recognize the model, but I've never seen an accelerator module like that. This bike is set up for racing, but we could use it as a scout."

"Good idea," said Meetra. She cocked her head. "By the way, how did you lose your arm?"

"I got tired of it," he replied, "kept dropping my hydrospanner. Figured I'd get a new one." Meetra raised an eyebrow and he smiled faintly. "The truth? It's a little reminder of Malachor."

Meetra twitched; the memories rushed over her. She stood on the bridge of the _Ravager_ , watching the fleet exchange fire with the Mandalorians. She turned slightly. Bao-Dur was across the room next to Captain Dodonna, waiting for the order. She nodded, and he typed a command into his console. There was an impossibly brilliant flash and thunderous noise. Meetra heard screaming, and everything went black. She came around slowly; she was lying on her back on the deck. Alarms were blaring and fires were burning all over. Meetra looked around as her vision cleared and saw her shoto saber, lying in a pool of flame. She extended a hand to pull it to her, but the hilt didn't move. Meetra gasped as she realized that she couldn't feel the Force. The shoto exploded as the power cell overheated. Meetra began weeping hysterically.

"General," said Bao-Dur softly, "General, are you all right?" He was standing next to the swoop bike, looking on with concern.

"Sorry," said Meetra, as she pulled herself back to the present. "So, what did you do after the war?"

"I moved around for a couple years," the Zabrak replied. "Working as a starship mechanic got me from place to place. I wasn't ready to settle down after the war."

Meetra nodded. "During my exile, I did much the same thing."

"Then you understand my restlessness. Though the war had ended, I couldn't find peace in anything." He shrugged. "I decided I'd do something constructive. I wanted to make up for the things I'd done in the war. I wanted to design planetary shields, but there weren't any systems with the credits to spare-there was more that needed to be rebuilt than protected. I found out that Telos was going to be the flagship project for the Republic, and it sounded like something good. I saw Telos before the Sith razed it. It deserved a better fate." He glowered. "But Czerka ruined everything. I thought I could force Czerka out on my own, but I guess I can't fix everything myself."

Meetra put her hands on her hips. "Well, we've given Czerka a black eye at least. I'm glad to have you along, Bao-Dur. This is going to be a difficult job."

Bao-Dur gave her a long look. "General, is there a reason you don't carry a lightsaber anymore?"

Meetra pursed her lips. "When my lightsaber is returned to me, I will bear it."

The Zabrak shook his head. "That's not your lightsaber anymore. That belonged to someone who served Revan in the wars, not the person you are now. You could build another one-if you wanted to. But you know that."

Meetra fished into her belt pouch and brought out the crystal Habat had given her. She gave it a long look, then put it away again. "I have thought about it. There wasn't any point, while I was cut off from the Force. Now that things have changed, maybe it's time."

"I know this, General," Bao-Dur said softly. "A lightsaber is part of who you are. Without it, you're not complete."

"I'm grateful you think so." Meetra hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. "There is something else we need to talk about. When you defeated the tank droid-that jump…"

Bao-Dur smiled. "You want to know what I had for breakfast, General?"

"You know better." Meetra met his eyes. "No amount of fitness would allow you to jump that high." He raised a hand to stop her and Meetra bulled ahead. "Bao-Dur, you're Force Sensitive. I could…"

" _No._ " Bao-Dur's response was immediate and firm. "It's out of the question."

"Why?" asked Meetra, surprised. "You could be so much more. You could help people, help the galaxy. I could teach you."

"Look," Bao-Dur scratched his head. "Why did you decide to fight?"

"The Mandalorians had to be stopped," Meetra said simply.

"My people had colonies across the Outer Rim," said Bao-Dur. "Many of them were among the first systems to fall to the Mandalorians. I did not join because I wanted to protect, though. I hated them. I wanted to destroy them-to give them the mercy they gave the people they conquered." He stared into Meetra's face, eyes burning. "And I did it. I built a machine to wipe the Mandalorians from the galaxy. I cared nothing for how many people would die, or even if my own comrades would be among them." He shook his head slowly. "I could never be trusted to wield that kind of power. And I will never deserve that kind of honor."

Meetra opened her mouth, but saw that he wasn't going to be persuaded. She nodded quietly and walked away.

* * *

 **A/N: So, the main plot is underway! What do you think of my Act I? Leave a review!**


	14. Nar Shaddaa, part one

**Disclaimer: I'm not the creator of KotOR, they're better writers.**

* * *

The _Ebon Hawk_ reached the edge of the system, and jumped to hyperspace. Meetra walked to the cockpit. Atton sat in the pilot's seat, playing solitaire with a pazaak deck. He looked up as she came in. "I don't know what it is, but you look different. It's hard to explain-but it's, uh, it's good to see."

Meetra smiled. "It's feeling the Force again. I've gotten back a part of me that's been missing for ten years."

"It shows," Atton said. "It's kind of inspiring, to be honest. Anyway, just wanted to mention it-I think the others have noticed it, too."

Meetra dropped into the copilot's seat next to Atton. She looked over at him. "Atton, where did you get your Echani training?"

He blinked. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Meetra shrugged. "When we first ran into the Handmaidens, you dropped into an Echani combat stance. Where did you learn that?"

"Oh, that," Atton stammered. "I picked up a little, here and there, but mostly, I know how to look the part. Don't tell anyone, but you wouldn't believe how many fights you can prevent by just pretending to know that stuff." He smiled wryly. I mean, it doesn't compare to wearing a lightsaber, but then again, that doesn't seem to help you much."

Meetra's eyes widened. _He was bluffing?_ "I see," she said, disappointed. "That's too bad. I thought you might teach me."

Atton nodded. "Well… hey, thanks. But you've got the wrong guy. You want to know how to win at cards, I'm your man. When it comes to a fight, I'm good at shooting people, cracking wise, and pretending to know how to fight with my hands." He glanced over his shoulder. "You want to learn Echani fighting, you should talk to our new recruit-she's been shadowboxing in the cargo hold ever since we made our jump."

"Good idea," said Meetra. "I think I'll do that." _It's time I got to know Handmaiden, anyway._ She stood and headed aft, past the holodisplay and back to the cargo hold.

Handmaiden was indeed standing in the center of the floor, throwing punches and kicks. Meetra hadn't noticed just how tall she was. Meetra was above average height for a woman, and Handmaiden was eight or nine centimeters taller and clearly in top form; she looked like she'd be a dangerous opponent. She stopped as Meetra walked in and turned to face her. "Oh… welcome, exile. Is there something you need?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Meetra said. "We will be traveling together, probably into danger. I need to know my companions, their skills, to better prepare for what may come."

"That would be wise," Handmaiden agreed. "As to myself, I have already told you that I am last among the Handmaidens. I have been trained in the Echani forms, and I can often read much from a person's stance, their movements. I am highly skilled in close combat, either with my staff, or hand-to-hand, and I can use a blaster rifle if need be." She sighed. "But I am often distracted; this is why I am last among the servants of Atris. Perhaps, once having known the ways of the Jedi, you may understand what occupies my thoughts."

"What do you mean?" Meetra asked.

"There is much knowledge under Atris' care," Handmaiden replied, "and only one of the Jedi remain. There is so much about their ways of battle, their forms, their stances, that may be lost forever if the last of the Jedi is taken from the galaxy."

Meetra frowned. "Battle is not the truth of the Jedi teachings. I believe it to be the farthest thing from it."

Handmaiden spread her hands. "I know your meaning, but I have not been clear on mine. Stance, form, and discipline are a means of expression and communication. They speak one's heart and one's devotion to their cause. The Jedi Way, their discipline, have shaped this galaxy for millennia. I fear that only Jedi can understand the mysteries of their creed. If the Jedi are no more, the galaxy will lose the benefit of that understanding."

Meetra nodded. "That worries me, as well." She switched subjects. "So, what were you doing when I came in?"

Handmaiden dropped into a fighting crouch. "I am training. So that if danger should strike, my body and my reflexes will be prepared." She shifted uneasily. "That, and I had forgotten how long hyperspace travel can be. If I do not have something to focus my attention on, I fear my sanity will erode as well."

"I always want to learn new techniques." Meetra tilted her head. "Could you teach me some fighting moves?"

"Training is reserved for certain caste members of the Echani," Handmaiden said slowly, "but I do not see the harm in instructing you in some basic principles." She tapped one hand against her upper arm as she thought. "I do not understand how you and Atris fight, but I will instruct you on how Echani children are raised on warfare."

Meetra nodded. "That seems as good a place as any to begin."

Handmaiden walked a few paces distant. "All Echani fighting principles rely on foundations." She got into a stance, then showed a series of simple strikes, blocks, and dodges. "If one does not understand the most basic of fighting moves, it is not possible to understand the higher tiers. It is similar to learning the alphabet of a language before being able to use words, then sentences." Each movement was then extended into a series of strikes and moves, several combos based on each starting point. "As a foundation, I will instruct you in our elementary movements. The body itself is the first weapon you must master. It is not something that can be described-let us duel, you and I, and that shall teach you more than my words can."

Meetra nodded. "I understand. I am ready."

"Not quite." Handmaiden walked to the door and shut it. "Echani train using the body, and only the body. Nothing is permitted which could either aid or hinder you-such things will obstruct learning."

"Wait," Meetra said slowly. "Does that mean no armor, or clothes?"

"Yes," the Handmaiden said evenly. "My people have dueled and trained nude for centuries. In the rare cases where we train non-Echani, minimal undergarments are the norm."

 _Seems odd, for combat training. There must be some ritual or tradition behind it._ Meetra disrobed, folded her clothes, and set them on top of a crate. Handmaiden similarly removed her bodysuit. She wore fairly standard two-piece black underwear, the sort worn by military personnel. The two women faced each other in the middle of the room.

"Now, for the duel," said Handmaiden. "Use only your hands and feet to strike at me-nothing else, or our combat will be over. Do not attempt to grapple; I will instruct you in holds and throws after you have a mastery of the basic forms. I shall match my movements to resist your efforts. And do not hold back, or I will hurt you."

Meetra nodded and settled into a ready stance. They began sparring; Handmaiden was one of the most skilled hand-to-hand fighters Meetra had ever encountered. She blocked Meetra's every attack expertly, sometimes sending Meetra staggering with powerful counters. It took Meetra several minutes, but she began breaking the Handmaiden's combos and landing strikes of her own. Handmaiden began to increase the complexity of her techniques, to keep the duel challenging. Meetra pushed herself hard to keep up.

After fifteen minutes, Handmaiden held up a hand, and the two stopped to rest. "You have fought well indeed," she said. "You have caught the principles of the style by watching and anticipating my movements. It is time to move from the basics to the first tier-adding strikes with your forearms, elbows, knees, and shins."

Meetra and Handmaiden began the second round of their duel. Handmaiden's first combo drove Meetra back across the cargo hold. Meetra responded with a series of hand and arm strikes which the Echani warrior blocked without effort. She went on the offensive, moving in close and driving an elbow into Meetra's stomach. Meetra tried to regain the initiative with a side kick, but Handmaiden sidestepped and kicked Meetra's plant leg. Meetra went stumbling backwards and Handmaiden pressed her advantage. Meetra quickly steadied herself and jumped up for a spinning heel kick which thudded into Handmaiden's ribs.

"Enough!" Handmaiden staggered back, winded, and held up a hand. "You learn very fast, exile, and your skill is astonishing. I can understand how the Mandalorians fell before you; I would not want to oppose you on the battlefield."

Meetra walked over to lean against the cool metal of the bulkhead. "You're no slouch yourself; you seem to be anticipating my attacks."

"I am," said the Handmaiden. She sat on a supply crate to rest. "It is the way of the Echani to be able to read their opponents-to know where is going to strike before it connects, anticipate it, and then strike against them. Echani battles are fought several minutes in advance-in many ways, it is like the game of dejarik played in the core systems. The most advanced among the Echani are able to predict the course of battles by months, and the most revered are said to be able to predict the path of wars."

"Can you teach me to do this?" Meetra asked.

Handmaiden blinked, surprised. "You are already doing it."

Meetra frowned. "What do you mean?"

"If you do not know you are doing it, then training will make you a dangerous opponent indeed," said Handmaiden. She stood up in preparation for another round. "Come-as we fight more, I will teach you. Do not think about predicting my movements-react instinctively." Meetra returned to the middle of the room, and they resumed sparring. Meetra began to understand what the Handmaiden was doing. In time, she was not only predicting Handmaiden's attacks, she was sending false signals about her own.

"You learn quickly," said Handmaiden. "Perhaps it is your connection to the Force that allows such things, but I do not think so. Now, you fight as an Echani warrior fights-always in the future." She was quiet for a moment. "There is something I must know. Why did you go back, face trial?"

Meetra sighed. "I felt they deserved an explanation. Maybe I had to hear me defend myself, just to be certain."

Handmaiden nodded. "I see. It was always something I was curious about-to walk to one's own sentence willingly. It is a brave thing."

"My turn for a question," said Meetra. "Why do we have to train without clothes?"

"I fail to understand the problem," said Handmaiden. "I had heard the coreward systems had customs concerning… modesty, but when training, such customs are not practical or efficient. It is important when training that nothing get in the way."

"It's not a question of modesty," said Meetra. "In fact, I believe training in clothes is vitally important."

Handmaiden cocked her head. "How so?"

"You should train under conditions similar to, or more difficult than, actual combat," Meetra explained. "Not only do Jedi train in full robes, we would often soak our overcloaks with water. It's miserable, but it forces you to overcome being cold, wet and weighed down in order to succeed. Training under difficult circumstances teaches you to maintain focus through all sorts of pain and adversity."

"I can see no fault in your reasoning," said Handmaiden. "I do have bulkier clothes."

"I think we've done enough for today," said Meetra. "This sparring has been intense. I'm going to get some food and rest, but I look forward to learning more tomorrow."

Handmaiden bowed. "Tomorrow, then. Good evening, exile." Meetra left the cargo hold and fell into her bunk, exhausted.

* * *

When Meetra awoke, Kreia was meditating, Bao-Dur was working on a vibration in the engines, and Atton and T3 were playing pazaak. Meetra had a chuckle at her rather unorthodox crew. In addition to her usual tunic and trousers, Meetra donned a trench coat she kept for bad weather; its length and weight made it a good substitute for a Jedi's overcloak, at least for training purposes. Meetra knocked on the bulkhead and entered the cargo hold.

"Will this do?" asked Handmaiden.

The Echani woman was wearing... "Those look like Jedi robes," said Meetra.

"They suffice for training purposes," said Handmaiden. "They belonged to my mother."

"They belonged to your mother?" said Meetra, "Who was she?"

Handmaiden opened her mouth, then shut it again. "Perhaps later. The tale is… personal. Let us train, for now; I believe it is time to add grappling to our regimen."

They started sparring once again. Handmaiden sidestepped one of Meetra's punches, then grabbed her wrist and shoulder and threw her to the deck. Meetra rolled to her feet and shook herself. She came back in more slowly, trying to avoid giving the Handmaiden an opening. The Echani woman didn't wait for one, she charged in and brought Meetra to the ground with a single-leg takedown. Meetra tried to get her legs up, but Handmaiden was too fast. She snaked around Meetra's side, then got an arm around Meetra's throat in a rear choke, applying firm but not dangerous pressure. Meetra reached up and tapped twice on Handmaiden's shoulder to acknowledge her defeat. The two stood up and faced off again. This time, Meetra managed to knock Handmaiden down with a heel kick, then followed her to the ground. When Meetra attempted to pass the guard, Handmaiden did some quick legwork and Meetra found herself in an armbar. She tried to power free, but Handmaiden had her locked in and Meetra was forced to tap a second time.

The sparring continued for a time, with Meetra making slow but steady progress. Meetra noticed that there were holds Handmaiden wasn't using, and saw an opportunity to do some teaching of her own. "I have something to show you," she said. "This will demonstrate the usefulness of training in clothing." Meetra stepped in and grabbed Handmaiden's lapel, pulling it tight across her throat. She jerked Handmaiden off balance, swept her legs, and sent her to the deck. "Many types of clothing can be used against the wearer," Meetra continued. "In particular, sturdy material like robes, flight suits, and fatigues give you useful places to grip your opponent." She moved in again, this time grabbing Handmaiden's sleeve in one hand and her belt in the other, pivoted, and drove the taller woman to the ground. Meetra used the sleeve to twist Handmaiden's arm around behind her, putting pressure on the shoulder until Handmaiden tapped. "The same techniques can be adapted to opponents wearing armor," said Meetra, helping Handmaiden to her feet. "If you don't train wearing clothes, you don't know how to employ these techniques-or to defend against them. I can teach you, if you wish."

Handmaiden bowed her head. "That was a most effective lesson, exile. I would indeed look forward to learning your holds. As to the Echani forms, there is little more I can teach you of unarmed combat. Perhaps, in a while, we will train with weapons."

Meetra nodded. "We could start on clothing holds tomorrow. It will probably take two sessions for you to learn the basics, one for offense and one for defense. Weapons work can come after that."

Handmaiden looked at the deck, seemingly lost in thought. After a minute, she seemed to come to a decision. "You asked me about my mother's robes, and why I look different from the other Handmaidens… my sisters."

Meetra held up a hand. "You don't owe me an explanation."

"I owe it to myself to tell you." Handmaiden looked into Meetra's eyes. "Though my father's blood I share with my sisters, I wear the face of my mother. My father was Yusanis, an Echani general."

"I never served with him, but I knew Yusanis by reputation," Meetra said. "He was a hero of the Republic, one of the greatest."

"He left our family to serve in the Mandalorian Wars," Handmaiden continued. "But his choice was _not_ because of battle. He went to join my mother, one whose movements and spirit matched his. His only desire was that they fight together, side by side, for as long as there were enemies amassed against them." Handmaiden bit her lip. "My mother died in the battle that shattered Malachor V, and her body was never recovered. My father returned from the Mandalorian Wars and did not enter battle again. He entered politics, a caste where one's battles are fought through words rather than action."

"What happened to him?" asked Meetra.

"He was slain by Revan in the Jedi Civil War when Revan sought to destabilize the Echani worlds," Handmaiden said softly.

 _The Mandalorian Wars cost her both her parents, yet she still wants to help me._ "I'm sorry," said Meetra.

"The fact that our father chose battle is not shameful, but that is not the reason he went to war," said Handmaiden. "He went to war to be with the one he loved, but not the one he had pledged himself to. He was disloyal; I am the mark of that disloyalty. It is said that such things run in the blood, and I have fought long to prove that this is not so. That is why I am different from my sisters. Yet I am pledged to them and Atris, and I would die before betraying them." She took a deep breath. "I tell you this in trust, and ask that you not speak of it to others. I only wish you to know."

Meetra nodded slowly. "Why tell me?"

"Because when my father returned from the Mandalorian Wars, he walked as you do now," Handmaiden replied. "There was something wounded inside him. He did not speak of what happened there. And with us, he was silent. Changed." Handmaiden's expression was an odd mix of sorrow and hope. "When I look upon you, I see an answer to a question I have searched for all my life. And that is why I tell you this now. I do not believe you to be the monster Atris made you out to be. I believe your choice was my father's choice, and it was just as difficult."

 _It surely was._ "I appreciate your trust," Meetra said. "Thank you for telling me."

Handmaiden shrugged. "I know it is difficult for others to see why I am here, but it was important that you know one of the reasons, and know that it is not simply duty that I am here, but because I want to be here."

Meetra smiled. "I'm glad of it. This mission is much more likely to succeed with you along." Handmaiden bowed, and Meetra left the cargo hold.

Meetra walked back to the port dormitory; Kreia was waiting for her. "How many more do we intend to gather to us? This ship is not the galaxy, there is only so much room."

"As many as want to come with us and help us," replied Meetra.

"Then prepare for an army, I think," said Kreia sharply, "for it seems many more will come in time. They will follow you because you are a leader. Their kind always need such, even when the figure deserves no such obedience." Kreia leaned in and spoke quietly, urgently. "Have you noticed what is happening? Have you felt it in them?"

Meetra nodded. "I've noticed their behavior is changing, Atton especially."

Kreia's mouth thinned. "The fool dances in your shadow for your favor. The woman… she worships you. The alien obeys you. Even within the machine, there are echoes."

"I'm flattered that they choose to follow me," said Meetra. "I just hope I'm worthy to lead them."

Kreia smiled. "Why do you assume that it is their choice?"

"They have told me so," said Meetra, "even Handmaiden."

Kreia nodded. "You are spending time with the servant of Atris, teaching her your ways of war."

"I'm also learning from her," said Meetra. "She's a tremendously skilled fighter-we're lucky to have her along."

"I knew her mother," said Kreia. "She was a Jedi Knight-a master, named Arren Kae. Jedi are forbidden to have children, and when the crime finally came to light almost a decade later, Kae was exiled. She joined the Mandalorian Wars after the shame of her daughter's birth was revealed."

"How did you know that?" asked Meetra, frowning. "The Handmaiden told me not to speak of it."

"She echoes her mother," Kreia said simply. "To one who knew Kae, the connection is clear."

Meetra nodded. "Kae served under Revan, as I did?"

"Revan welcomed her," said Kreia. "And she was… said to be… a skilled warrior. Beautiful. And strong in the Force." Kreia was quiet for a moment. "The Force runs strongly in the blood of those born from Force Sensitives. I doubt that Arren was any different. If the servant of Atris is of her blood, then the potential lies within her."

Meetra's eyes widened as she understood Kreia's implication. "How could I train her?"

Kreia tapped her fingertips against her stump. "You must train yourself first. The time will reveal itself. Yet if you persist as you have, building her trust, then you will be training her, whether you know it or not, until the choice is hers, not yours." The old woman held up a warning finger. "I hope your thoughts in the matter concerning this servant of Atris are clear. Spend time with her if you must, but recognize where your true loyalties lie-to the galaxy and yourself."

"My loyalties lie to my friends and allies," said Meetra.

"Ah, so it is loyalty you claim when you squander away your time with her." Kreia cocked her head skeptically. "Never have you wondered what it would mean in the Echani rituals if the two of you sparred and fought-and you won, completely and utterly? If perhaps she would give in, surrender herself to you?"

Meetra gasped and put both hands to her mouth. _Echani train naked._ "I hadn't thought of it. I hoped to make sure she is better prepared for when we face the Sith, and perhaps show her that Atris is wrong about me. I really hadn't considered…" Meetra's face was beet red. "I hope I haven't given her the wrong idea."

Kreia laughed dryly. "You have not, exile. At least, not yet. I wished to make certain you understood the road you were walking."

Meetra was silent for more than a minute before asking her next question. "Kreia, what are you-are you a Jedi, a Sith?"

"Does it matter?" Kreia countered, then answered her own question before Meetra could. "Of course it does, such titles allow you to break the galaxy into light and dark, categorize it. Perhaps I am neither, and I hold both as what they are, pieces of a whole. Know that I am your teacher, and that is enough."

"Then, what do _you_ think you are?" asked Meetra.

"What do you wish to hear?" Kreia snapped. "That I once believed in the code of the Jedi? That I felt the call of the Sith, that perhaps, once, I held the galaxy by its throat? That for every good work that I did, I brought equal harm on the galaxy? That perhaps what the greatest of the Sith Lords knew of evil, they learned from me?" She sat down heavily on the bunk. "At one time, Revan was my Padawan. In times past, long ago. I was expelled by the Council, for the crime of training one who would defy them by leading Jedi to war. I sought to prove them wrong, and found that I was not the only one who hated the Jedi."

As Kreia spoke, the bunkroom around Meetra fell away. She saw Kreia, wearing jet-black robes and walking into the center of a dark shrine. Meetra heard Kreia speak as she watched the memory. "There are dark places in the galaxy where few tread. Ancient centers of learning, of knowledge." Kreia stood in the shrine, looking around at the carved stone spires which towered over a circle of blood-red glowing tile. "But I did not walk alone. To be united by hatred is a fragile alliance at best." Two dark figures approached Kreia. "And my will was not law… there were disagreements. Ambition." Meetra recognized one as the heavily scarred Sith who had attacked them on Peragus. "And hunger for power." The second was a very tall man wearing a long black cloak and bone-white mask. Both stopped a few meters from Kreia. The scarred Sith drew his lightsaber; Kreia did the same and got into a defensive stance. "There are techniques within the Force against which there is no defense." The cloaked Sith extended a hand and blasted Kreia backwards. Kreia slammed into a pillar, dropped her lightsaber and slid to the floor. She lay with her back against the pillar and reached out for her saber. The hilt vibrated, but didn't move. And Kreia was out of time. The scarred Sith reached down and grabbed her by the throat, dragging her upright. "I was cast down. Stripped of my power. Exiled." The scarred Sith smashed his knee into Kreia's gut, punched her in the face, and threw her to the floor. "I suffered… indignities, and fell into darkness." Both Sith closed in as Kreia struggled to her hands and knees. She didn't have the strength, and collapsed back to the floor. The memory went dark as Kreia lost consciousness.

Kreia continued speaking with her head down. "Learn from me, my mistakes, and use that knowledge to become greater than I. That is all I ask of you, and that is all I desire." She raised her head to face Meetra fully. "In you all my hopes rest, for the future, for the Force."

Meetra was absolutely shocked. _She's been a Master of both the Jedi and the Sith, and was rejected by both._ "I need more than that, Kreia."

Kreia hesitated, then nodded. "If it means so much to you, then this I swear to you upon my life, upon our lives, that when your training is complete, I will answer everything. There shall be no more shadows between us, only the truth that exists between master… and apprentice."

Meetra pursed her lips and nodded. "I know full well that the galaxy isn't solely split into light and dark." She turned and left the dormitory and headed up to the cockpit, where Atton was just bringing them out of hyperspace.

"Your timing is good, boss," Atton said. "I'm bringing us down now." Meetra watched out the windscreen as the _Ebon Hawk_ descended toward Nar Shaddaa.

* * *

 **A/N: In my take, the Echani forms are primarily based on jujitsu, with some bojutsu thrown in for the weapons work.**


	15. Nar Shaddaa, part two

**Disclaimer: Again with this! I do not own anything in the Star Wars Universe.**

* * *

The crew gathered in the main hold, where a hologram of Nar Shaddaa floated above the holodisplay. "Well, here we are," said Atton, "the smuggler's moon. It's the gaping maw of Nal Hutta, swallowing all the cargo and spaceport thugs the galaxy has to offer. Mandalorians, mercenaries, war veterans, and pilots from the Mandalorian Wars and the Jedi Civil War ended up on Nar Shaddaa, from all sides of the conflict. When the last war ended, there was no place left for them to go." He glanced over at Meetra. "Nar Shaddaa's a rough place and easy to get lost in… or for someone to get lost. If we wanted to keep out of sight from the Sith for a while, you couldn't pick a better spot."

"How hard would it be to find a Jedi here?" Meetra asked.

Atton shook his head. "It won't be easy. There's so much traffic on Nar Shaddaa, finding anyone on the moon's surface is going to be hard." He typed a command into the holodisplay and brought up an area map. "We're going to touch down in the Refugee Sector. There's a lot more traffic there, and it's harder for people to spot you coming in… or find you once you arrive."

Atton brought the _Ebon Hawk_ to a landing on a small pad, then led the way down the ramp. "Ah, the beautiful stench of decay and desperate living," he quipped, taking an exaggerated sniff.

"This moon… it teems with life." Kreia spread her hands, as if trying to keep her balance. "It is difficult to center oneself."

Atton turned to face the others, waving a hand to indicate the skyline. "Welcome to Nar Shaddaa: towering buildings kilometers high and miles deep, with canyons so wide you could have a dogfight in them. Word of warning-watch where you step, or you'll fall for hours."

Meetra looked around briefly. "Are we going to be okay on this landing pad?"

Atton nodded. "Sure, most of the landing pads around here are unclaimed, or should be. They're pretty badly maintained, so they're not safe to land on." Bao-Dur raised his eyebrows and Atton continued hurriedly. "Well, I mean, not this one, but they all have the reputation, so we should be all right, I think."

"Any problems with the docking authorities?" Meetra asked.

"No," Atton replied, "but I forgot to tell them we were landing. The Refugee Sector's a dead zone, no one cares too much who flies in and out of here so long as they're not carrying cargo that the Exchange or the Hutts might want a piece of." He shrugged. "We should be able to leave the ship here as long as we want, no one supervises these landing pads anymore."

"You! You there," shouted a Toydarian, as he flapped out towards the pad.

Atton winced. "Uh-oh."

The Toydarian pointed accusingly. "What's with you, letting that piece of junk sink its struts into my landing pad? I got another ship coming in, and unless you want that piece of junk's hull crushed flat, you'd better move it."

"What do you care who uses your pad?" asked Meetra. "First come, first served."

The Toydarian smiled unpleasantly. "I got some visitors booked for your space, but I'm sure the two of you can work it out when they arrive. If they decide to tractor your ship off the pad and drop it, that's your problem." He turned and flew away.

Meetra turned to the others. "Let's see where our path takes us."

They started down a narrow street toward the landing area's central plaza. As Meetra rounded a corner, she saw a Weequay and a Trandoshan who had a man cornered. "You wander too far, human," said the Weequay in broken Basic. "We warn you what happen, but your kind not listen."

"Break legs, maybe you not wander so far," hissed the Trandoshan.

The frightened man raised his hands pleadingly. "No, look-you can't keep us trapped in the Refugee Sector. We can't survive there. You've got us locked in!"

The Weequay raised a vibro-axe menacingly. "Know your place, human. Your place is there, not here."

The Trandoshan noticed Meetra and grunted. "Another human-what you look at?"

"What's going on here?" Meetra asked. The rest of the crew was still behind the corner, out of sight of the two thugs.

"Exchange business, human," said the Weequay. "Not for your seeing unless you want to lose your eyes."

Meetra took a step forward. "I won't let you hurt that man. Stand away from him."

The Weequay tested the edge of the axe with his thumb. "One human, not amusing fight. More than one human, a little better, spill more blood."

Meetra raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh, you want more to fight? Why didn't you say so?" She motioned, and Atton moved into view. "How about two? Better yet, what about five?" Handmaiden, Kreia and Bao-Dur all stepped out from behind the corner. The two thugs wavered, then turned and ran off.

The man shook Meetra's hand gratefully. "Thanks for your help-they would have crippled me for sure."

"I couldn't stand by and let them hurt you," said Meetra. "Why were they hunting you?"

"Well, they work for the Exchange," the refugee answered, "for a Quarren named Visquis. He's looking to step up in the Exchange. The only language the Exchange respects is money, so Visquis is trying to increase his profits by using the refugees here in Nar Shaddaa as a cheap labor force. We're only good to him as slaves and merchandise. He wants to keep us in one place so he can control us. That's always been the way… well, except lately."

"What do you mean?" asked Meetra.

"The Exchange has been clamping down on the Refugee Sector hard, and I have no idea why," replied the refugee. "They've started kidnapping people, hurting others… but there seems to be no reason to it."

 _Visquis must work for Goto-he'll know about the bounty._ Meetra frowned. "Where can I find Visquis?"

The refugee chuckled. "You don't. He comes to you, if he's got reason to-either because you can help him out, or because you're making trouble. Either way, it's not a good thing."

"You better head out of here before you run into any more trouble," said Meetra.

The refugee nodded and ran off, ducking down an alley. Meetra and the others continued down the street; they rounded another corner and stopped short. The Trandoshan and Weequay they had run off were back, with a pack of thugs. The Trandoshan smiled. "How about eight? It's time you learned your place, human!"

The thugs raised their weapons and began to spread out. Atton ran directly at the thugs and vanished, then decloaked behind a Nikto and stabbed him through the neck. Bao-Dur waded in, dishing out bone-cracking hits left and right. Handmaiden extended her staff and took on three thugs by herself. Meetra faced off against the two thugs she had scared off before. They attacked with vibroblades, but gave Meetra no real trouble; she parried them easily and cut them down. Meetra glanced around. The rest of the thugs were dead, so she led the way further down the street.

They had walked only a short distance before another refugee walked up to them. "I saw what you did to those Exchange thugs, stranger. Can you spare a few credits, maybe help another refugee in need?"

Atton rolled his eyes, but Meetra fished in her pouch for a credit chit. "I can," she said, holding up the chit. The refugee reached out and Meetra jerked the chit away. "In exchange for some information."

Behind Meetra, Kreia nodded approvingly. The refugee swallowed hard. "Uh, all right… I don't know much beyond the Refugee Sector here, but I can share what I know."

"I'm looking for a Jedi Master by the name of Zez-Kai Ell," said Meetra. She gestured to T3, who projected a small hologram of Master Zez-Kai.

"Jedi Master?" The refugee let out an empty laugh. "There ain't any Jedi Masters in the galaxy, let alone on Nar Shaddaa-this place is a cesspit, with the Exchange and the Hutts stabbing their claws into everything. But you know, I did hear something about a bounty on Jedi, though. Something the Exchange posted." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter, though. Aren't any more Jedi around, so no one's going to be collecting that bounty."

Meetra winked. "There might be a few left."

"You?" The refugee's eyes widened. "You're lying… or mad. A Jedi wouldn't come to…" He trailed off as he looked into Meetra's eyes. "You're serious. You're telling the truth." He grabbed Meetra's arm tightly. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to get us out of this place? Please, you have no idea what life is like here!"

Meetra patted his arm. "I will do what I can, but that may not be enough."

The man nodded. "Look, Jedi, before you go. I know you probably didn't come here to save us, but… but I knew Jedi during the war, and I know that they always helped when they could. If I can help you, even just by keeping an ear out, I can let you know if I hear anything."

Meetra smiled. "I'd appreciate that." She handed over the credit chit, and continued into the market area.

As Meetra and the crew walked out of sight, a figure stepped out of a shadowy side alley. It was a young woman with fiery red hair. She wore a teal shirt tied off to leave her midriff bare, black leather pants and jacket with armor padding. A wrist launcher was clasped to her right forearm. She leaned against the wall next to the refugee. "And what did she want?"

"Nothing," the man stammered, "just answers to some questions."

"It's okay," the woman said cleverly, "I already know she's a Jedi."

The man's mouth fell open. "You do? Then why…?"

The woman chuckled. "Trust me, Nar Shaddaa just got complicated."

* * *

Meetra walked out into the landing area main square. A wide platform wrapped around a vertical shaft which plunged hundreds of stories into the city. Merchant stalls and shops ringed the walkway, offering nearly everything, legal or otherwise. To the north, streams of automated heavy-lifter shuttles were loading cargo into several large freighters. West across the shaft was the infamous Red Sector: a block of clubs, gambling dens, and brothels catering to the spacers passing through. To the south was the entrance to the Refugee Sector proper. Meetra took a few steps away from the others and stopped short.

Kreia walked up beside Meetra. "Your thoughts are disturbed… I can feel them, like a shiver running through you."

"I…" Meetra closed her eyes and concentrated. "I feel this background noise, like a vibration."

"It is Nar Shaddaa, the true Nar Shaddaa, that you feel around you," said Kreia. "It is this moon, with the metal and machines stripped away and the currents of the Force laid bare."

"It feels so alive, but with a desperation about it," said Meetra.

Kreia nodded. "I am surprised you can feel it. I feared the damage to you had deadened such perceptions. What you feel is the echo of the minds of these creatures within the Force. Their anger, their greed, their desperation. It is life."

"But the anger and desperation…" Meetra shook her head sadly. "Is there some way to heal it?"

Kreia shrugged. "One might as well heal the universe, but such manipulation is possible, yes. It requires that one be able to feel the critical point within the fractured mass… and know how to strike it in such a way that the echoes travel to your intended destination."

Meetra frowned. "I'm not interested in manipulation, but healing."

"Have you learned nothing?" snapped Kreia. "Healing _is_ manipulation, and if you do not realize it yet, you will discover that an act of healing depends largely on your perspective. Manipulation is done through propelling events, or selected ones, into motion. It is done through teaching, through example, and through conviction. And the greatest of victories are not manipulations at all, but simply awakening others to the truth of what you believe. Of hearing it echoed around you, in life." She turned away from Meetra, looking out over the square. "But let us be silent. Words and thoughts are distractions. Feel this moment, for as long as it will last. Feel life, as it is, with the crude matter stripped away." Kreia and Meetra closed their eyes and stood silent, listening to Nar Shaddaa.

"General." Meetra opened her eyes as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Bao-Dur was standing over her, and the others were looking on with concern. "General, are you all right?" Meetra blinked and nodded.

"In the future, Zabrak, you should know that it is considered quite rude to break a Jedi's meditation unnecessarily," Kreia said harshly.

"He didn't know," said Meetra. She checked her chrono. "And we've been standing here for twenty minutes!" She smiled kindly. "No wonder you were worried."

Atton stepped up. "What is our next move, boss?"

"We're going to draw Visquis out." Meetra looked around the group. "I want to make a lot of noise; I also want to bring in some credits, to keep us in fuel and supplies while we search for the Masters." She glanced at Atton. "You're going to find an Exchange-run pazaak den and clean them out."

Atton smiled. "That'll be fun."

Meetra looked over to Handmaiden. "I expect there will be some form of prizefighting around here-as good as you are, you can probably best the local brawlers."

Handmaiden pursed her lips. "I would be happy to test my skills-as long as the matches are not to the death. I won't kill for sport."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Meetra said evenly. She turned to Kreia. "Find a spot in the stands, place the bets, and keep an eye on her-just in case."

The old woman nodded. "And what will you be doing?"

Meetra grinned. "I'm getting that bike from the ship; there's a swoop gallery here at the landing pads. Bao-Dur and T3 will pit for me. It's been a while since I've been racing. It's good practice for Jedi reflexes." The group separated, with Atton, Kreia and Handmaiden heading for the Red Sector.

Meetra retrieved the swoop bike from the _Ebon Hawk_ 's garage and flew it to what was marked as Lupo Shar's swoop gallery. As she landed, an attractive Twi'lek woman called out to her. "Greetings, offworlder. I am Borna Lys."

Meetra smiled pleasantly. "Greetings, I'm Meetra."

"A pleasure," said Borna. "Might I ask what you are doing here?"

"I was thinking of racing my swoop bike," Meetra replied.

"That would not be smart," said Borna, "At least, not yet."

"And why is that?" asked Meetra.

"Racing now would be pointless," Borna said. "Lupo has a champion that cannot be beat. A droid."

Bao-Dur and T3 came up behind Meetra. "What's so special about a droid pilot?" asked the Zabrak.

"Lupo began taking advantage of all the traffic of rich merchants and naïve refugees by fixing the swoop races," Borna explained. "The Hutts supplied a ringer: Nico Senvi, one of Motta the Hutt's pros from Tatooine. He's been dominating the racing here for two years, raking in the credits for Lupo. But the Hutts take a 40% cut of Lupo's earnings, and he's greedy. So he found a way to fix the races and keep every credit: by going legit."

"So he built a droid to win the races," said Meetra.

Borna nodded. "Right. Lupo commissioned a droid pilot and a custom swoop bike designed specifically for him. The droid has faster reflexes and can withstand greater acceleration than any living pilot, and they can leave much of the safety features out of the bike, saving weight. Since Lupo owns the droid, he pockets the prize money too, not just the losing bets."

"So, by not fixing the races anymore, the Hutts couldn't claim a cut of the winnings?" Meetra asked.

"It is not the Hutts' racer winning anymore," said Borna simply. "Even the Hutts have rules."

"You're not just warning me off to be nice," Meetra said, "what's your angle?"

"I want the business for myself," said Borna. "There is more racing than ever these days. Pilots and mechanics left over from the wars are building bikes and hitting the track all over the Rim, and lots of people are betting. I made a generous offer to buy the gallery from Lupo before he built the droid, but he turned me down." Borna smiled. "But Lupo is exposed. His pilot has scared off a lot of competition-it always wins, so most racers don't come back a second time. The droid and its swoop bike cost a fortune-he took out a loan to build them, which he's repaying out of the gallery's profits."

Meetra smirked. "So, if the droid loses, Lupo will be broke, and he'll have to sell."

"Exactly," said Borna. "Vogga the Hutt wants a cut of the racing again. I've worked out a deal with him to take a smaller percentage- _if_ I can get the gallery away from Lupo, but we need to find a way to beat the droid without getting caught cheating. Nico can't do it-he's the Hutts' racer, and it would arouse Lupo's suspicion if he's the one to win. Lupo needs to think that the droid somehow got beat fairly. That bike of yours looks fast, and Nico can tell you the particulars of the track. If you win, I'll give you 2000 credits, plus the prize money for coming first."

Meetra and Bao-Dur looked at each other. "We're in," said Meetra.

"You'll want to talk to Nico," said Borna. "He's probably in the gallery; he still races here, just for second place." Meetra nodded and walked into the gallery.

Nico Senvi was a tall, green-skinned Twi'lek man in his mid-twenties. He got right down to business. "This track is the most challenging one I've ever raced. It runs through a series of freight tunnels under the docks. The heavy lifters are in there non-stop, and you never know exactly where they'll be. The fans are even worse. The tunnels are used to ventilate the exhaust and fumes from the docks; the ventilation fans cycle on and off unexpectedly and make for sudden crosswinds. I suggest you take a practice run or two to get used to the track." Meetra shook Nico's hand and thanked him for the advice. She walked on in to sign up for the day's competition.

Lupo Shar was a yellow-green Twi'lek with a thin face and a greasy smile. He grinned as he took Meetra's entry fee; Meetra sensed deception, but nothing specific. As they walked through the pits to their assigned slot, T3 extended an antenna from his head, jamming any surveillance in the area. Meetra turned to Bao-Dur. "What do you think?"

The big Zabrak frowned. "I think that a droid pilot isn't more skilled than a living one. Droid starfighters don't greatly outmaneuver piloted ones, they tend to win by sheer weight of numbers. I can buy that the swoop might have slightly greater acceleration, but unbeatable… there's something else going on here."

"Yes, but what?" Meetra wondered. She looked down to the astromech. "T3, I want sensor sweeps while the droid is making a run."

Bao-Dur shook his head. "He'll get spotted." He snapped his fingers; his remote floated over and dropped into his hand. "Find a small vent along the route, somewhere well-hidden. Get scans of the swoops as they go by."

The tiny droid beeped and Bao-Dur threw it down the tunnel. "He'll get us some information, but all he can do is gather raw data. We will need the astromech to analyze it."

T3 tooted enthusiastically and Meetra grinned. "I agree. Let's get the bike set up for my first race."

* * *

The swoop riders set up in the pits. Racers made their runs one by one, with Lupo's droid going first. Meetra waited as several other racers went ahead of her, then a hauler droid towed her bike to the starting gate. She eyed the tunnel ahead of her, listening for the signal to start. Meetra hit the throttle at the start tone and accelerated down the track. The first kilometer was featureless tunnel, then Meetra had to side-slip to avoid several pipes. She was steadying her bike when a heavy lifter rose up out of a crossing tunnel directly ahead. Meetra climbed to shoot over the cargo hauler, then dove away from more pipes. She spotted another shuttle and maneuvered to avoid, then her swoop was slammed sideways by a vicious crosswind. Meetra pushed the stick to compensate, but the bike left the turbulent air and veered too far in the opposite direction. Meetra knew she was losing time, but she was forced to concentrate on regaining control of her swerving swoop before she crashed. She saw the venting from another spinning fan ahead and was able to better compensate for the downdraft. Two more heavy lifters, and Meetra crossed the finish line in what she suspected was not a winning time.

Meetra was correct; she had come fourth, making the cut but not in the money. The droid had beaten all the other racers by more than ten seconds. Meetra was now more certain than ever that somehow the fix was in despite Lupo's claims. She cruised back to the pits and rejoined Bao-Dur and T3. In a few minutes, the remote hovered out of the tunnel and stopped in front of T3. The astromech plugged in, and the remote uploaded the data.

T3 worked for a few moments, then began twittering urgently. Meetra frowned. "An encrypted signal? Can you crack the cipher?"

T3 warbled uncertainly. "Get me anything you can," Meetra said. "I'll race the second round and the remote will get another scan, to give you more to work with." She turned and mounted her swoop.

The second round of racing was much closer, except for the droid, who was eleven seconds ahead this time. Meetra unexpectedly took second place, half a second ahead of Nico. The Twi'lek racer gave her a respectful nod as the times were posted, and Meetra headed back to the pits. Bao-Dur was grinning ear to ear. "T3 came through. The signal is being sent to the droid pilot. It's got transponder information on the heavy lifters, and a feed from the ventilation control computer. Lupo's droid has advance notice of the track hazards, and can easily avoid them without losing speed."

Meetra slammed a fist into her palm. "We've got him. The final round is coming up. When the droid is about halfway done the course, jam the signal."

T3 warbled and left with Bao-Dur. Meetra want to stand with Nico and the other remaining racers for the final round. The droid blazed away from the starting line. About forty seconds later, there was a massive explosion. Lupo's jaw dropped and he stared at the viewscreens in disbelief. He turned to face the gallery. "Due to an accident on the track, today's racing…"

"Oh no, you don't, Lupo." Nico pointed a finger in Lupo's face. "A round has already been completed, so the competition cannot be cancelled. Your droid wrecked, so he forfeits. The rest of us race to determine a winner, and you are bound to honor all bets which have been placed." Nico smiled dangerously. "Or do you want to explain yourself to Vogga the Hutt?"

The blood drained from Lupo's face. "I'm ruined! I can't afford to build another droid. Those creditors will have my Lekku on a plate."

"Having trouble with your droid, Lupo?" Borna Lys walked into the pits wearing a triumphant smile. "I saw the explosion. My offer still stands, you know."

Lupo's mouth worked soundlessly, then he nodded. He handed Borna a datapad and walked out of the gallery. Borna nodded, satisfied, and faced the remaining pilots. "The race is on. Next rider to the start line."

Meetra grinned and headed for the pits. She strapped in and waited for her turn. Two riders made their runs ahead of her, then Meetra laid down her fastest time yet. She walked happily into the gallery only to see Nico blow her away by two and a half seconds. Meetra sagged, then laughed to herself-she had gotten caught up in the excitement of the races, and forgotten that her mission was already accomplished.

Borna tapped her on the shoulder. "You have performed wonderfully! Thanks to you, Lupo is scrambling to get off-planet, and the gallery is mine." She handed over a stack of credit chits. "As promised-2000 credits, plus two hundred more for a second-place finish." She moved off to give Nico and the third-place rider their winnings. Meetra grinned and returned the swoop bike to the _Ebon Hawk_. She returned to meet Bao-Dur and T3 in the main square before heading into the Red Sector to see how the others were doing.

* * *

 **A/N: Some of you will recognize Nico Senvi from a minor sidequest in KotOR I. In my headcanon, the quest doesn't matter. Motta the Hutt would not honor any contract that cost him money; Nico would end up working for him in any case.**


	16. Nar Shaddaa, part three

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Star Wars, nor do I claim any right to profit from this fan fiction.**

* * *

Meetra contacted Kreia on the comlink and received directions to an arena in the Red Sector. It turned out to be on the top level, covered by a transparisteel dome. Kreia was in a small viewing box above the roaring crowd, who were watching a human man trade blows with a big, broad-shouldered Aqualish. "The servant of Atris has advanced to the championship match for today," said Kreia. "She is a capable warrior and will make a powerful ally, if you can win her loyalty."

Down in the ring, the Aqualish grabbed the man's arms and delivered a powerful head-butt with his tusks. The man staggered backwards and the Aqualish battered him with several heavy punches. The man fell unconscious; two medical types hauled him out of the ring, leaving a trail of blood. The referee grabbed the Aqualish's arm and held it up. "Your winner is Rogo!" roared the announcer. "He will meet the newcomer to defend his two-month undefeated streak!"

The crowd roared; attendants entered the ring to clean up the mess from the previous match. Meetra and Bao-Dur settled down to wait. In fifteen minutes or so, Handmaiden appeared in one corner and Rogo returned to the other. Rogo was slightly taller than the Echani woman and looked about twenty kilograms heavier, but Handmaiden didn't appear too concerned. The bell rang and the two combatants faced each other in the center of the ring. Handmaiden pressed her palms together and bowed respectfully. Rogo knocked her down with a hard right hook to the side of the head. The spectators howled with laughter; Handmaiden shook herself and got back to her feet.

Bao-Dur shook his head. "A sucker punch. I guess we should expect that sort of thing, here."

Meetra smiled confidently. "She'll make him pay for it."

Handmaiden got into an open stance and brought her hands up. Rogo strode forward and threw a straight punch at Handmaiden's nose. She deflected the punch with a forearm, then responded with a one-two to the Aqualish's gut. Rogo grunted and slammed his elbow into Handmaiden's ribs. Her breath whooshed out and Rogo grabbed her, then spun to smash her into one of the posts. Handmaiden ran up the post and pushed off with both legs. As she went over Rogo, she grabbed his shoulders and used her momentum to throw him across the ring. Rogo bounced off the fence-field and hit the canvas hard. He got to his feet with an angry roar and charged at Handmaiden. They battled for a minute or so. Rogo was powerful, but he was a brawler, lacking any real skill; Handmaiden was gaining the upper hand through superior technique. She connected with an uppercut and Rogo reeled. He grabbed Handmaiden's collar, yanked her hood down over her eyes. He drove his knee into her stomach several times before slamming his elbow down onto the back of her head. Handmaiden fell to the mat and Rogo began kicking her in the ribs.

Bao-Dur half stood but Meetra grabbed his shoulder and forced him back into his seat. Handmaiden rolled onto her back and Rogo stepped up to stomp on her chest. Handmaiden reached out and grabbed the Aqualish's foot. She twisted his leg and brought him down hard. Rogo rolled atop her and began punching for her head. Handmaiden kept her hands up and wrapped her legs around Rogo's torso, locking her ankles behind him. Rogo kept throwing punches, fixated on beating Handmaiden into submission. She shot her hands out forward, one under Rogo's arm and the other beside his head. Handmaiden grabbed his lapel and pulled it across his throat, then pivoted to tip him over. She let go with one hand and grabbed Rogo's sleeve to pull his arm across his body, then shifted her legs to force the arm against his throat. Rogo tried to power to his feet, but Handmaiden locked one ankle behind the other knee, completing the delta strangle. Rogo flailed his legs for several seconds before passing out. The crowd was silent for a moment, then cheered. Meetra clapped right along with them. Handmaiden got to her feet, turned to face Meetra, and bowed before leaving the ring.

Meetra walked down to meet her. "Well done!"

Handmaiden bobbed her head. "Your instruction was quite useful, exile. Thank you for your wisdom."

Meetra smiled. "That win should certainly attract some attention. Let's go find Atton." The crew left to track down their last member.

* * *

Atton, it turned out, was also having some success. They found him at a table in a pazaak den near the Red Sector entrance. The tall stack of chits at his elbow looked promising, but the Chadra-Fan across from him had slightly more. Several other gamblers stood watching the match, which was tied at one set apiece. The short, rodent-like alien signaled the droid dealer to hit him again, then shrilled angrily as a high card busted him out. The second light blinked on at Atton's end of the table. He grinned, then glanced over as Meetra walked up. "Hey, boss. This squeaker calls himself the Champ. They say he's the best here, but I've got the hot hand right now."

The Champ flipped a credit chit across his knuckles; he was seated on a barstool so as to be at the same height as Atton. He snapped his fingers at the droid, who began dealing the next set. Atton accepted his first card, an eight. The Champ got a five. Neither player used a hand card; Atton received a three while the Champ's second card was a two. With the scores so low, both players hit again. This time, Atton received a five, bringing his score to a dangerous sixteen. He shrugged and waited for the Chadra-Fan to take his turn. The Champ was dealt a seven and did nothing. Atton hit and the droid dealt him a nine. He smiled broadly and played a -5, standing automatically at twenty. The Champ hit, receiving a five. He laid down a golden card: the +1 tiebreaker, taking the win despite Atton's score. The Chadra-Fan laughed. "Spacer talk big, but I am Champ. I win always, sooner or later."

Atton seemed to consider this. "Prove it." He pushed his pile to the center of the table. "I'm all in."

The Champ smiled broadly and matched Atton's bet. Both players handed their side decks to the droid to be shuffled. The dealer handed Atton his hand of four. Quicker than blinking, Atton pinned the droid's hand to the table with his knife and drew his pistol on the Champ with his other hand. The assembled gamblers all pulled weapons, as did Meetra and Bao-Dur. There were perhaps three seconds of tense silence.

Atton eyed the guns pointed at his head. "Before all of you shoot me for backing out of a bet, I think there's something you should know." He twisted his knife; the droid dealer's arm split open, revealing a hidden card chute. "This rat always wins because he's working for the house. The dealer rigs the game, the 'Champ' here takes your money, and then splits the take with the club owner and the Exchange." The other gamblers glared and swung their blasters to point at the Champ. Atton stared the Chadra-Fan down; the tiny alien was shaking. "You're caught, cheat."

Suddenly, all the lights in the pazaak den went out. Several people fired, but the little alien had already moved. The Champ dove beneath the table and ran through the forest of legs as the crowd of gamblers grabbed at him. When the lights came up, he was gone, along with everyone who worked at the pazaak den. Atton shrugged and swept up the pile of credits on the table. "Not bad, for a day's work." He grinned at Meetra. "I think we should get out of the Red Sector for a while. Whoever runs this place won't be too happy with us." They ducked out the door as the angry crowd began tearing the pazaak den apart.

* * *

They headed back to the ship; Meetra rounded a corner on the way to their landing pad and stopped short. Three Trandoshans wearing armor were blocking the street.

One of the lizard-like aliens pointed a claw at Meetra. "There is the one. As was told to us."

Atton winced. "I think that other ship has arrived, boss."

More Trandoshans walked into view-many more. "You have attempted to claim territory of the _Red Eclipse_ ," hissed the lead thug. "For that, your lives are now ours." The Trandoshans drew weapons and attacked. The next few moments were a frantic blur as the Trandoshans tried to swarm the crew under. Meetra drew her swords, slashing and parrying against four enemies at once. Atton's knife wasn't much use against the attackers' swords; he and T3 opened up with blasters. Handmaiden and Bao-Dur waded into the fray, bowling their opponents over with sweeping attacks. Kreia moved up and went back-to-back with Meetra. The crew fought furiously, and the Trandoshans fell back down the street. Meetra gave chase and was stunned by what she saw. A huge freighter hovered low over the _Ebon Hawk_. It had clamped on with docking arms, and more than fifty Trandoshans were waiting on the pad.

One particularly tall and mean-looking Trandoshan stepped forward, gesturing menacingly with a vibro double-blade. "I am Cahhmakt, master of the _Red Eclipse._ You will learn respect, human, and then you will die."

The thugs let out a bloodthirsty yell and surged forward. Meetra blasted a push into the lead Trandoshans, then turned to Kreia and nodded. The old woman raised her hands, and more than a dozen of the _Eclipse_ crew simply collapsed. The thugs paused, wary of attacking again. Cahhmakt smiled, showing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. "You are of the Jeedai, and I am fortunate. You are a doubly valuable prize-I will lay your pelt before the Scorekeeper, and your bounty is higher than an entire hold full of humans."

Meetra nodded slowly, her face emotionless. "I was going to give you a chance to walk away, but now that I know you are slavers…" She drew on the Force and leapt at the thugs, landing in the center of the crowd. She concentrated and threw her arms apart, releasing a Force wave that swept nearly all the Trandoshans off the edge of the pad. They fell screaming into the canyons. Cahhmakt had kept his feet and ran at Meetra. She parried his initial strike and countered with a diagonal slice at his upper chest. The slaver blocked with the haft of his weapon. He kicked Meetra in the side, leaving a deep cut with his clawed foot. Meetra grunted in pain and went for Cahhmakt's legs with a cross slash. The big Trandoshan hopped backwards, then began to bring his blade around.

Meetra anticipated the strike and was preparing a riposte before Cahhmakt had finished his swing. _And then, he'll step… there!_ She dropped down, sweeping the slaver's legs out from under him. Meetra watched the Trandoshan closely, picking up his intentions by small changes in stance, eye movement, and even his breathing, just as Handmaiden had taught her. She stopped a head-high swing, knocking the Trandoshan back with a kick to the chest. Cahhmakt spun and stabbed with his back blade, but Meetra parried and scored a hit on the slaver's shoulder. Cahhmakt grew enraged; he snarled and began swinging wildly. Meetra was forced to retreat by the sheer force of his blows. She kept her guard up, waiting for an opening. Meetra forced Cahhmakt's blade downward, then drove her short sword in under the Trandoshan's chin and out the top of his head.

Meetra took a deep breath. The rest of the crew walked up behind her; Handmaiden nodded appreciatively. "You learn fast, exile. I trained for two months before I could predict an enemy's actions that well."

Meetra beamed. "Thank you for teaching me."

They were about to board the ship when Meetra heard a howl of anguish. The Toydarian pad master fluttered up, holding his head in both hands. "What, what is this? What am I going to do? The _Red Eclipse_ was one of my best customers!"

"I'm so sorry that killing these slavers hurt your bottom line," snapped Meetra. She smiled slightly. "On the plus side, their ship appears to have been abandoned."

The alien grinned. "It has, hasn't it? I'll, ah, move it, so it doesn't block you in."

* * *

The crew boarded the _Ebon Hawk_ , and the crew split up to their quarters. Handmaiden stood in the cargo hold, doing her daily exercises. Atton knocked on the wall next to the open door, then walked in. He saw her practicing and rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever give it a rest?"

Handmaiden said nothing, and continued throwing strikes. Atton rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't mind me, I just need to get some stuff from the cargo hold." He retrieved some parts, then turned to leave. "Next time I walk in here, I'm carrying a blaster."

"You would need one," Handmaiden said quietly.

Atton stopped short in the doorway. He turned back and smiled. "All right, I guess we better find out." He closed the door, removed his thick jacket and slipped off his flight boots. Handmaiden was already barefoot; she brought her hands up and bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, throwing a few practice jabs. Atton did likewise, bobbing and weaving as he loosened up.

After a minute or so, Handmaiden walked to the middle of the floor and Atton stepped up opposite her. Handmaiden bowed; Atton chuckled, then did the same. The two began circling each other. Atton attacked first, trying for a simple straight punch to the face. Handmaiden blocked the punch and threw one of her own. Atton ducked instead of blocking and Handmaiden brought a hammer fist down on top of his head. Atton took a step back to regroup but Handmaiden didn't give him the space; she spun and kicked for his ribs. Atton caught her leg and pivoted to heave her across the room. Handmaiden hit the deck and rolled, then got back to her feet and rushed Atton. They exchanged punches before Handmaiden stung Atton's ear with a quick chop. The blow was mild, but it made Atton close his eyes for a second. By the time he opened them again, it was too late to block the uppercut that followed; it rocked him backwards. Atton shook himself and switched stances, facing his opponent squarely with his hands open and wide apart. Handmaiden charged in and they both crashed to the ground. Atton landed several hits to her ribs before Handmaiden was able to throw him off. He hit the wall and dropped to the deck.

Handmaiden got to her feet warily; she pointed an accusing finger at Atton. "You know the first tier of styles, but you hold back because I am unarmed. Tell me where you were trained."

"What can I say," Atton grumbled as he stood up, "I'm a quick study."

Handmaiden's eyes narrowed. "You lie. Few know the Echani styles by reflex."

Atton rolled his eyes. "Guess you saw a lot of the world while you were freezing your cargo hold off in the ice academy, didn't you, sister?" He glared at her. "Oh, yeah, one other thing-don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been sparring with our ex-Jedi friend. This isn't some pleasure yacht, so if I did know all the Echani movements, I might know more than just the first tier, including the etiquette rituals." He jabbed a finger at her. "So keep your hands where I can see them."

"Fool!" Handmaiden snapped, raising her fists.

"Schutta," Atton retorted. He moved in with his guard up. Handmaiden rushed forward and the pair locked arms. Handmaiden slammed her knee into Atton's gut. He grunted and hooked his foot behind her ankle, then twisted, bringing them both to the ground. They grappled for a moment, then Handmaiden managed to mount Atton and began raining down blows. Atton shielded his head from the extended pounding and slid downwards. He trapped Handmaiden's thighs under his arms, raised his hips, and pivoted, slamming her down on her side. Handmaiden tried to hold Atton with her legs, but he got loose. Atton managed to grab Handmaiden's ankle and began to straighten her leg. Atton shifted to lock the hold in, and Handmaiden used all of her strength to shove him off. They both lay on the deck, gasping for breath.

Atton felt his jaw and chuckled. "I guess I would need a blaster." He got up to leave, but Handmaiden grabbed his wrist.

"I am not fooled, Atton." Handmaiden held his hand in both of hers. "You had me, but you deliberately left an opening-why?" Atton said nothing; Handmaiden scrutinized his face closely. "You _do_ know the etiquette rituals. You know what it would mean for me to challenge a man and be defeated." He flushed slightly, but remained silent. "I've seen the way you look at me, Atton. If you desire me, why not win the duel?"

Atton pushed her hand away and stalked off to pick up his jacket and boots. "I'm not in the habit of forcing myself on women."

"And, if the woman is willing?" Handmaiden asked softly.

Atton's head snapped around in surprise. He almost smiled, then his brow furrowed. "Why me?"

Handmaiden blushed and looked down. "I have read much in your stance. You pretend to be less than nothing, but under your disguise is an honorable warrior. You are intensely protective of your master; you recognize how important the exile is, and you serve her loyally, as I wish to. Even as we fought, your movements matched mine." Handmaiden paused for a breath. "And you let this be my choice; no Echani man would ever do that. I think I will not mind if you do defeat me."

"You've read wrong." Atton shook his head. "You can do better than me; I'm just a scoundrel."

"Scoundrel?" Handmaiden raised her eyebrows. "I like the sound of that."

Atton laughed exasperatedly. "Of course you do. You aren't the first girl who fell for the first rogue to cross her path." Atton walked forward and took her hands. "Save yourself for a good man."

"You _are_ a good man," Handmaiden countered.

"No, I'm not…" Handmaiden silenced him with a kiss.

Atton hesitated, then took her in his arms. Handmaiden grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him across the hold. "You know better, Atton. If you want me, you must win me. I must insist on strict adherence to the rituals." Handmaiden smiled slyly and began to remove her robes.

Their final round was hard-fought, but Atton won. Handmaiden had been correct: In the duel, and what came after, their movements matched each other perfectly. When it was over, they lay quietly side by side. Handmaiden rolled to face Atton and gave him a quick kiss. "Brianna."

Atton frowned. "What?"

"I am Brianna," she repeated. "When we are alone with one another, you may use my name."

Atton blinked, then kissed her tenderly. "Brianna is a beautiful name. Thank you for letting me hear it." She gave him an expectant, penetrating look; Atton sighed. "You're right: there was once another name." He looked down. "He died in the Jedi Civil War."

Brianna shook her head. "You cannot simply cut off part of yourself and throw it away. Your past is with you still; I can see it in your stance." She put her arms around him. "The exile is wise. You should speak with her; she can help you find peace."

"I don't know," said Atton. "It's been a long time."

Brianna squeezed his shoulder. "Think about it. In the meantime, we should get some rest. The exile will likely have more work for us tomorrow."

The crew assembled in the main hold for breakfast. Atton entered and sat down gingerly. Meetra's jaw dropped. "What in space happened to you?"

Atton tried to stammer an explanation of his black eye, but couldn't get the words out. Handmaiden came in just then. She had a large bruise on her jaw and smiled at Atton as she sat down. Meetra looked back and forth between the two. Her eyes went theatrically wide and she put her hands to her mouth. Handmaiden blushed and the pair both tried to speak at once. Meetra held up her hands. "Save it. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Let's eat, and then plan our next move."

The meal went by in an awkward silence. As the crew got up to leave, Meetra reached out and held Atton back by his collar. He turned to face her. "Boss, I…" His voice gave out.

"Relax, Atton." Meetra crossed her arms. "You're both grown-ups, but there's something you need to know." Meetra jerked her head in the direction of the cargo bay. "Handmaiden is falling in love with you, Atton, it's all over her face. If you aren't serious, you need to stop, _now_. You could hurt her badly if you aren't careful." Meetra poked two fingers into his chest. "End of lecture-get moving." Atton scampered away; Meetra smiled at his back.

* * *

Meetra led the others out onto the landing pad, then turned to face them. "Today, I want a look at the Refugee Sector proper, and see what the conditions are. There may be opportunities to help them, or attract more attention from the Exchange. Additionally, the place seems like an ideal place for Master Zez-Kai to hide."

As they walked down the street toward the main square, a voice called out from a doorway. Meetra turned and saw a red-scaled Trandoshan in spacer's clothes leaning against the wall. "You are brave to walk here, ex-Jeedai. In landing on Nar Shaddaa, you have stepped into the krayt dragon's jaws." He continued quickly as the crew began to reach for weapons. "I am Vossk, once of the bounty hunters' guild, now no longer. You have nothing to fear from me."

Meetra's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I'm listening."

"Membership in the guild is in name only," said Vossk, "most are killers, assassins. Something has taken their hunter's heart, and twisted it. The guild once prided itself on bringing in criminals, those too clever to be caught by any but a skilled hunter, but no more. Those of the guild no longer take pleasure in the hunt, only in the kill. Bounty hunting has become murder." The Trandoshan wagged a claw at Meetra. "Much information has reached Nar Shaddaa of you. Not many will recognize you, but all hunters will. I have come to warn you of the most dangerous ones on your trail."

Meetra nodded. "I'd be grateful for anything you can tell me."

Vossk began ticking off on his fingers. "An entire nest of Gand have come. Insects, from a poisonous world. They do not praise their kills or accomplishments, and they are difficult to surprise. They have the instinct of prey, yet are predators-it is strange. There are the Twin Suns… two Twi'lek slaves from Ryloth, slaves who killed their masters and developed a taste for it. They have mastered a dance of death. Very beautiful, very dangerous. There are the Zhug 'brothers,' of course-cast from Duros for attempting to wipe out a rival family of politically-set Duros. There are hundreds of their kind, not grouped by blood but by their cause, who claim they are a new family. They seek to raise enough credits to seize Duros for their own. There is a series of hunter droids that are new to the moon."

"No need to describe them," Atton groaned, "we're quite familiar with the HK-50s."

Vossk nodded. "Finally, there is Hanharr… and Mira." He shook his head. "They will hunt each other until the sun of this system dies, and beyond."

"Tell me about them," said Meetra.

"Hanharr," said Vossk. "A beast, a Wookiee, brought from a Mid Rim world, near my world of Hsskor. He was captured by Czerka, killed the Czerka slavers. He now hunts this moon and other systems. He uses bounty hunting as an excuse for taking slaves… and for breaking and killing humans wherever he can find. He is very dangerous, almost unstoppable when angry. It is said he killed his own tribe, but no one knows for sure."

Meetra nodded. "What about Mira?"

"She was once a slave captured by Hanharr," Vossk replied. "He brought her to the smuggler's moon, but she escaped. She is still a bounty hunter, perhaps one of the best I have ever seen."

"Why is she special?" Meetra asked.

"Because she does not kill except when she has to," Vossk said. "She respects the hunt, not the slaughter." He glanced around quickly. "There is only one other thing I can tell you, but it is perhaps the most important. The hunters of the guild obey only one of the old laws: they are forbidden to attack each other while chasing the same prey. The hunters all hate each other, but," Vossk paused for emphasis, "they are all hunting you. This has caused a truce of sorts. Should any of them capture you, or if the bounty is rescinded, the truce will be at an end."

Meetra nodded. "Thank you for the information, Vossk." The old hunter nodded, and the crew continued on down the street.

About three kilometers away, the red-haired woman stood at the edge of another walkway, scrutinizing Meetra through powerful macrobinoculars. "Well, it looks like the Jedi raised their standards," said Mira. She suddenly frowned and turned. "Hanharr… I thought I smelled something. I've told you before-hunt your own targets, don't scavenge mine."

The big, murky-brown Wookiee stepped out of the shadows across the street. " _You_ are my prey, female. Always."

Mira glared at him. "What, working for the Hutts suddenly make you stupider, Hanharr? You touch me, you'll break the truce, and then you won't last long enough to slip off this moon."

"Maybe I forget truce for a short while," Hanharr said quietly, "go mad, forget rules." He crossed the street in three long strides and grabbed Mira by the throat, lifting her off the ground. "Maybe seeing your bones break, seeing you in pain will be all I need to see before I die, than the life debt over, and I can be at peace."

"Don't, Hanharr," Mira coughed, "I'm warning you."

"Warn me? Of what?" Hanharr snarled. "Warn me you trick me, warn me you violate life debt? Little human girl, I could crush you with one hand, end lifetime of misery."

"I don't want your life debt, Hanharr-I told you!" Mira snapped.

The big Wookiee shook his head. "Then little girl should not have made mistake so long ago. On Kashyyyk, females who make mistakes die. Hanharr smells your fear, even through the stink of this moon."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm afraid." said Mira. She placed a hand into her belt pouch. "I'm afraid if you keep crushing me, I'll accidentally set off my rocket charges and blow us both to Nal Hutta."

Hanharr pulled her close, stared into her face. "Are you finally ready to die? I do not think so… your eyes show you are still filled with fear."

Meetra stared right back at him. "I'd rather die than be caught by you again, Hanharr."

There was a moment of stillness, then Hanharr released his hold on Mira's throat. "It is not the time for you to enter the Shadowlands. When it is, I will be there, my claws at your throat, and I will stare into your eyes as you die." Hanharr turned and melted into the shadows.

* * *

 **A/N: This love scene is not as well written as the ones in _Second Chances_ and _Light in the Shadow_. I know the fade-to-black is a bit sudden and jarring, but it sort of had to be there. This fic started as a lemon, and I have had mixed success converting it to a vanilla fan fic. I really liked the explicit version of the Atton/Handmaiden duel, but it was much too spicy for FanFiction. It was set up as a combination fight/flirtation like the scene between Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones in _The Mask of Zorro_ , or between Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner in _Daredevil_ (2003). I can also see that the ship is moving kinda fast for some readers. Justification: Handmaiden believes in, if you'll excuse the pun, 'love at first fight,' and Atton sure as hell isn't going to say no.**


	17. Nar Shaddaa, part four

**Disclaimer: wej lach'eghDI' jIH KotOR. (That's not gibberish)**

* * *

The entrance to the refugees' living space was guarded by several Exchange thugs, but Meetra got past them with a mind trick easily enough. She stepped out of a tunnel and looked out over the Refugee Quad. It was a former cargo terminal converted into slum housing for about a quarter million people. The containers were stacked a dozen high and connected with improvised stairs and walkways, forming ramshackle apartment towers separated by narrow alleys. A jumble of power cables ran from one tower to another, with clothes hung out to dry above the streets. The place was crowded, with ten or more people living in each cargo module. Still, the streets were relatively clean-someone was doing a good job of organizing the people to maintain sanitary conditions, and Meetra decided that was a good sign. She started into the quad.

A man walking past glanced at the group and stopped. "New here?" He pointed. "Talk to Hussef, he can help you settle in."

Meetra took the cue and walked over to where a man was leaning against his 'house.' Hussef was a mild-looking man in upper middle age. He gave Meetra a strained smile and extended his hand. "Welcome, traveler! My name is Hussef. I try to look out for the other refugees. I see you're a stranger here. Watch your step, and keep to the camp."

Meetra frowned. "Why is that?"

Hussef pointed to one end of the terminal, which was blocked off by a wall of containers locked together end-to-end. "You've got the Serroco refugees over on the skyward side. They're veterans from the Serroco campaign and don't take too kindly to strangers." He jerked his head upward, toward what had once been the warehouse offices. "And on the inner side, you've got the Overseer and his Exchange. They've been pushing us refugees pretty hard lately."

Meetra frowned. "Tell me more about the Serroco. What are they like? Who leads them?"

"They're former soldiers," said Hussef, "all of whom served on Serroco during the bombardment. The man leading them is former Republic Major Derrick Nevran."

Meetra blinked. " _Never-Run_ Nevran?"

Hussef nodded. "I know his reputation, but he's had a rough time of it since the war ended."

Bao-Dur nodded. "The war was bad enough, but trying to come home-that was worse. Loneliness, anger, trouble finding work… I can imagine myself in his position."

Meetra pursed her lips. "You mentioned the Overseer. Who is he? What is he doing to you?"

"His name is Saquesh," Hussef replied, "He's a Quarren; he works for Visquis, runs this place. He decides where we can work, and how much of our pay we get to keep. Things were difficult, but tolerable. Then, a week or two ago, his thugs started taking children; he's holding them for ransom, wants six hundred credits each. No one here has that much, but if the children's families can't come up with the money, they'll be sold into slavery on Nal Hutta."

Meetra ground her teeth together. "How many guards up there?"

Hussef grabbed Meetra's arm. "Please, don't try anything foolish! If you anger Saquesh, he'll retaliate. There's nothing you can do."

"That's where you're wrong." Meetra held out her hand, levitating a datacard just above her palm. Hussef froze, staring down at the card, then looked up at Meetra with an expression of frenzied hope. Meetra spoke quietly and urgently. "Hussef, you will tell _no one_ about me, understand?" The refugee leader nodded emphatically. "Good. I need you to talk to the refugees. Get me information on the kidnapped children-how many missing, their names, and pictures if you have them. I will be back this evening, and we'll see about Saquesh." She turned and walked back towards the landing pad.

Meetra stepped out of the terminal and leaned against the wall to think. Bao-Dur stopped beside her. "I remember Nevran, though he was just a captain at the time." The Zabrak shook his head. "Hard to believe a man like that could be a gang leader now."

"We'll be talking to him," Meetra said firmly. "I want to see if the soldier is still there, inside the thug he is now." She turned to Atton. "I'm going to need some of the money you won at the tables. I have some shopping to do-electronics." Meetra smiled at Bao-Dur. "It's time I built a lightsaber."

* * *

Bao-Dur walked into the _Hawk_ 's workshop carrying a crate. "Here it is, General. I picked up all the parts you asked for, or as close as I could. The power cell was easy enough. I found a piece of durasteel conduit that you can use for a hilt, and some mechanic's grip tape to wrap it. The crystal mounts are from an optical computer. For focusing, I've got the beam gem lens for a 35mm infrared sensor. Will that do?"

Meetra nodded. "For now. Hopefully, we'll find a workshop with the tools to custom fabricate better parts-ideally, a sonic lathe. Under normal circumstances, I'd mill the hilt out of a block of durasteel, but it's more important that I get a saber built and working. I meditated with the crystal while you were out, so all that is left is assembly. I've done it before, so I should finish quickly." She glanced at the Zabrak. "Would you like to observe?"

Bao-Dur hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't think so, General. It isn't really my place." He headed into the main hold.

Meetra spent the next two hours constructing her lightsaber. It wasn't pretty; the parts weren't meant to go together, so she had to use adhesive to fit them inside the handle tube. When it came time to replace the power cell, she'd have to disassemble the saber and melt the glue. Meetra painted all the seams with sealant and left to give it time to dry. She headed for the cargo hold.

As expected, Handmaiden was standing there, practicing. Meetra knocked on the wall before walking in. The Echani woman turned to face her. "Good afternoon, exile." She bit her lip. "Thank you for your understanding this morning."

"It's good to see someone holding onto a little happiness in the galaxy these days," said Meetra. "And everyone's first relationship is awkward and embarrassing. I could tell you a few stories of my time as a Padawan…" Meetra smiled wickedly. "I won't, but I could."

Handmaiden sighed with relief. "Do you wish to train again? I believe we were ready to begin sparring with weapons."

Meetra nodded, and the two women changed into their heavier clothing. They faced off, Handmaiden with her staff and Meetra using her swords. Handmaiden spun her staff to parry Meetra's first attack, then launched into the air for a powerful two-handed swing. Meetra blocked, but was still knocked to the ground. She scrambled back up to see Handmaiden running in again. Meetra slashed at her; Handmaiden dropped under the attack and slid on her side, holding the staff crosswise to take Meetra's legs out from under her. Meetra hopped over the staff and kicked backwards; Handmaiden was knocked across the hold. She ran in, planted one end of her staff on the deck, and pole-vaulted to connect with a flying double kick. Meetra hit the deck hard, then got back to her feet. She took a minute to catch her breath and moved in slowly. Handmaiden raised her staff, but didn't attack. The two watched each other closely, changing their stances in anticipation of each other's next move. Meetra took a step and Handmaiden responded instantly, sidestepping and angling her staff to block. Meetra hadn't moved, only shifted her foot, and Handmaiden was wide open. Meetra brought her sword around, stopping half a centimeter from Handmaiden's neck.

"Atris was correct about you." Handmaiden collapsed her staff and clipped it to her belt. "You know war, its motions and currents. There is nothing more I can teach you."

"Then maybe I can teach you some things," said Meetra.

Handmaiden hesitated, then crossed her arms. "I have already learned much of your styles and combat. There is no need to know more." She lowered her eyes to the floor. "And I have taken an oath to Atris against studying from a Jedi, or anything of the Jedi teachings. My father broke his oaths. He shamed us all. I do not wish to follow his path… I swore not to follow his path. If I were to follow a Jedi against Atris' wishes, then I would be betraying her. For you."

"If that is your choice, I will honor it," said Meetra. "But you have potential-I have felt it as we trained."

"This is a difficult thing for me to say, but I ask that you be silent as I tell you this." Handmaiden dropped her arms to her sides, and Meetra could feel her make her decision. "It is my desire to learn from you what you can teach me of battle. I have already learned much in our duels, but with every battle, I wish to know more of you. Atris said that you were the only Jedi to have survived the Mandalorian Wars. That you had stared into the heart of war, and only turned away because you were forced to." Handmaiden shook her head. "I do not believe her. I believe you made a choice, as my father did. And that is important to me, more than you know." She looked into Meetra's eyes. "And you are important to me, more than you know. I will accept whatever you wish to teach me, though it breaks my oath to Atris."

"There is one more thing you must know. My companion, Kreia, knows who you are." Meetra held up her hands reassuringly. "I did not betray your confidence. Kreia knew your mother during the wars; she recognized you." Meetra took a deep breath. "She recognized your presence in the Force. The Force runs strong in bloodlines, and you could learn to use it to help others."

"I… think I have always known this." Handmaiden spoke softly, almost to herself. "It has always been in my thoughts. As I followed Atris, perhaps what I wished to follow was the call of the bloodline, of my mother. I have felt incomplete, hollow, since her loss at Malachor V… and with your help, perhaps this wound might be healed." She went down on one knee. "I want you to teach me the ways of the Force. To become a Jedi Knight like my mother."

Meetra frowned. "Are you absolutely certain of this?"

Handmaiden looked up, her eyes burning. "Listen to me. I am already committed. There is no one else I would want to train me. I have seen you in battle, I have seen your heart, and you are what I want to be."

 _One last chance_ , Meetra thought. "So be it, but it will be breaking your vow to Atris."

"There is the betrayal of Atris, and then there is the betrayal of my mother and father," Handmaiden replied. "After seeing you in battle, I know you more than I have ever known Atris. And I am not convinced that serving her is the greater good. I want to feel what my mother felt for my father, what ran through my mother's veins when she was one with the Force. I wish to hear what my mother heard as she fought the Mandalorians, until the moment she died on Malachor V."

Meetra nodded briskly. "Then I will teach you what I know of the Force."

Handmaiden stood, determination in her eyes. "I will not let you down, exile. I will honor you, as I honor the face of my mother."

* * *

Meetra worked with her new pupil-she couldn't make herself use the word Padawan-for just over an hour, enough to get her through a basic exercise in feeling the Force. Handmaiden learned quickly; meditation was part of an Echani warrior's regimen. Meetra reassured Handmaiden that she was doing fine for a beginner and headed back to the workshop to test her newly constructed lightsaber. She unclipped the hilt from the bench, and thumbed the activation switch. The blue-white blade shot out with a sound which could not be mistaken for anything else. Meetra swung the saber through the air. The balance was slightly off due to the improvised construction, but Meetra felt suddenly buoyed nonetheless. She began whirling the blade, getting used to the gyroscopic effect which she had not felt in a long while.

The crew had heard the saber igniting and walked in. Kreia gave an approving nod. Atton grinned, Handmaiden bowed her head, and T3 whistled and beeped ecstatically. Bao-Dur smiled, folding his arms. "What are your orders, General?"

Meetra doused the saber and clipped it to her belt, replacing her long sword. "We're going to try and free the children, but we can't do it alone. Even if we manage to get the children back to their families, Saquesh will just take them again, and he might do worse. I'm hoping to convince Nevran to join us, to throw Saquesh and the Exchange out of the Refugee Sector. We're going to go talk to him now. The Serroco gang are former Republic soldiers. With the proper persuasion, they might be willing to secure the sector, and keep the Exchange out."

Bao-Dur nodded. "We should go get our equipment ready." He, Handmaiden, and Atton left for their quarters.

Kreia remained behind, waiting until they were alone to speak. "You are becoming distracted-again. These people are a tiny speck in the grand scheme, pulling you away from the greater mission. You cannot afford to become mired in their troubles, as you did with the Ithorians."

"I will not stand by while people need help," snapped Meetra. "That is the choice I made during the Mandalorian Wars, and that is the choice I make now." She put her hands on her hips. "And don't forget, aiding the Ithorians enabled me to meet Bao-Dur, and find Atris. Moreover, we have two missions on this moon. One is finding Master Zez-Kai, the other is provoking a confrontation with the Exchange. If I am successful in breaking the Exchange's hold on the refugees, they will be forced to reckon with me."

Kreia shook her head. "I cannot force you to take my advice. In time, I hope you will realize how foolish it is to become involved in these minor issues while the fate of the galaxy hangs in the balance."

The crew gathered at the bottom of the ramp. Meetra smiled to see that Handmaiden had traded in her bodysuit for her mother's white robes. They walked back to the entrance to the Refugee Sector, and took a side tunnel to the Serroco-controlled section of the terminal.

Two men stood guard at the door; they wore medium armor and were armed with blaster rifles. One stepped forward. "This is Serroco territory. Get out of here before we space you-got it?"

"I'm looking to speak with your leader," Meetra said evenly. "We served together, once."

"Like I've never heard that before," said the sentry, rolling his eyes. He raised his rifle and aimed it at Meetra's face. "Now beat it, or get beat."

She snatched the rifle away from the guard before he could react. She drove the butt into his stomach, then brought it up to hit him in the face, knocking him to the floor. The second guard began to bring his blaster up, but Bao-Dur clamped his hand around the barrel and held it firmly. Meetra helped the fallen man to his feet and handed the rifle back to him. The two guards looked at each other and stood aside.

Meetra turned to her crew. "Wait here." She walked through the door and into the blocked-off area of the terminal. The containers weren't stacked and were further apart, but Meetra still estimated there to be at least thirty thousand people here.

Derrick Nevran stood in an open space in front of the living quarters with a small group of guards. He took a long pull from a hip flask. "I understand you've been looking for me."

"I had to see if it was true." Meetra walked forward slowly. "When I heard that Derrick Nevran was running a Nar Shaddaa street gang, I didn't believe it. I still don't."

Nevran scowled at her. "I'd advise you to watch your tongue, if you know what's good for you."

"I was wrong, anyway." Meetra shrugged. "You're sitting here and allowing the Exchange to crush a city full of refugees, so you can't be him. Not the man who led a battalion through the jungle on Dxun, never falling back once. Not the man who held his position above Duro until the orbital city was burning around him, to make sure the civilians got out. How can you possibly be Never-Run Nevran? You're just another thug who finds his courage at the bottom of a bottle."

"You ignorant bitch!" Nevran spat at Meetra's feet. "Those civilians abandoned us, when hundreds of my men died for them. Let them take care of themselves." His hand clenched and unclenched next to the butt of his pistol. "And who are you to call me a coward? What do you know about the wars?"

"You mean you don't know me?" Meetra asked coolly, "I suppose I'll have to jog your memory."

Nevran drew his blaster, as did every nearby Serroco veteran; they began shooting. Meetra drew her lightsaber and deflected the bolts harmlessly into the air. The veterans stopped shooting when they saw the saber. Nevran stood stock-still for a moment, then took a close look at Meetra's face. His mouth fell open in amazement. "General? General Surik?"

"Yes," Meetra nodded. "It's been a long time."

Nevran's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then his attitude changed visibly. "I'm sorry, General. I didn't recognize you." He turned to the other veterans. "Weapons down, boys." He signaled for the sentries to allow Meetra's companions to enter, then led the way to the container which served as his home. He held a chair for Meetra, then sat down himself. "What happened to you, General? The last I heard of you-the last any of us heard-was at Malachor."

Meetra sighed. "I returned to Coruscant. The Jedi Council put me on trial for violating the Jedi Code by going to war; I was sentenced to exile. I've spent the last ten years wandering the Rim."

"Exiled, for stopping the Mandalorians and saving the Republic." Nevran grunted and poured two glasses of Corellian whiskey, handing one to Meetra. "Maybe you will understand, after all. When Revan went bad after Malachor, a lot of troops went with him, and more as the war went on. A month or so after Saul Karath blasted Telos, my battalion was sent to Ord Mantell, to hold the depot there. The Sith moved on us about two weeks later, a battlegroup under Admiral Kellar." Nevran shook his head. "Right before the Sith arrived in orbit, the local militia commander defected with the codes to our orbital defenses, the same way Karath won at Telos. The Sith sliced our systems; the orbital defense guns wouldn't fire. I ordered a retreat-we pulled out aboard our transports, and the Sith took Ord Mantell without firing a shot." Nevran tossed back his drink and refilled the glass. "It was the right decision, but the Core brass didn't care-it hurt them politically. The press called it 'the day Never-Run ran,' and the Senate demanded someone's head. The brass gave them mine, and all my men; we were charged with desertion in wartime. Admiral Dodonna, bless her, stepped in before we were all shot. We were dishonorably discharged-no pension, no veterans' assistance, and no one would give any of us a job."

Meetra sipped her drink. "So, how did you end up here?"

Nevran chuckled. "Nar Shaddaa is where you go, when you have nowhere to go." He slammed his fist down on the table. "And we weren't welcome here! When we arrived, the refugees refused to allow us to live with them. We set up our own living quarters, kept to ourselves, and now that they're crowded, Hussef is whining that he needs us to share our room. To hell with him-to hell with them all!"

Meetra pursed her lips. "There's more than just overcrowding. Hussef's people need help, badly. Do you know what the Overseer is doing to the refugees?"

"Bah," Nevran waved dismissively. "They have to pay the Exchange tax. So do we; either Goto or Vogga the Hutt gets a cut of everything on this rock, that'll never change."

"It's more than that," Meetra said quietly. "Saquesh is taking children; he's going to sell them to the Hutts."

The old soldier jerked upright in his chair, then slumped forward again, staring into his whiskey. "Why should I care? They threw us out in the street."

"Those kids didn't do a thing to you," Meetra said firmly. "And even if they abandoned you…"

"It doesn't mean I should abandon them." Nevran swirled the red-brown liquor in his glass, thinking.

Meetra watched him closely, reading his face and body language. "What if they were your kids, Major?"

Nevran knew the answer to that. "They're _all_ our kids." He tossed back the drink and stood. "All right. What do you want from me?"

Meetra clapped him on the shoulder. "There's the soldier I remember. Let's go talk to Hussef."

* * *

Meetra led her crew and Nevran back into the main refugee quad. Hussef was sitting in front of his home, waiting anxiously. He leapt to his feet as Meetra walked up the street. "You're back! I have the information you asked for. Do you…" He trailed off as he saw Nevran. "What is he doing here?"

"He's saving the kidnapped children, that's what," Meetra retorted.

Hussef crossed his arms. "You trust him?"

"I served with Major Nevran during the war," Meetra replied. "I was his commanding officer from Serroco all the way to Malachor, and I vouch for his character. He's not the first good soldier to be made a scapegoat." She looked back and forth between the two men. "There is a deal to be made here. Nevran, your men will free the hostages and drive the Exchange out. You're going to allow Hussef's people to live in the entire container yard." She pointed up at the warehouse offices where Saquesh and his thugs lived. "See that? That's going to be City Hall and security barracks in one. Hussef, you will have to work with Nevran, but he has plenty of well-trained men. He can keep the Exchange and the Hutts out."

Hussef thought a moment. "Major, you get those children back safe, and I'll give you the damned keys to the city." He extended his hand; Nevran shook it.

"Now, we need to plan a rescue," said Meetra. "You have the list of children?"

Hussef handed over the datacard. "One of the refugees worked here before the terminal was shut down. I was able to get a floorplan."

Meetra slotted the datacard into a port on T3's head; the droid projected a hologram of the building. Meetra and Nevran looked over it for a short while. Nevran pointed. "There is a secure storage room in the building's lower level, built to hold high-value cargo. The kids are likely there, and Saquesh will have the place locked up tight. The squid himself is probably in the old manager's office. It's up top, with a nice view of the quad. The rest of the rooms are probably full of thugs, and there are more guarding every way in and out of the quad. We'll need to make sure the hostages are safe first, then we can deal with Saquesh and the rest of his thugs."

"Right, said Meetra. "Major, how many troops do you have, and how are they armed?"

"About two thousand," Nevran replied. "We've got basic infantry weapons-swords, blasters, some mines and grenades. No heavy ordnance."

"Very well," said Meetra. "Assign your men as you see fit; most should spread out and secure the terminal area, so Saquesh can't bring in reinforcements from outside. We'll need at least a company to take the building, at least one platoon of which should guard the children once we take the room they're in. Now, the walls here are too thick for me to cut with my lightsaber, at least not quickly." Meetra turned to T3. "You can get us through whatever locks they have, right?" T3 chirped assent; Meetra smiled. "All right, we can get in one door quietly. That'll be the outer door closest to the hostages. It will be guarded; once we take those sentries down, all hell is going to break loose. At that point, your people should blow the other doors and storm the building. We'll fight our way to Saquesh and finish him."

Nevran nodded. "Looks good, General. I will get my people squared away and contact you on comm when we're prepared to move."

* * *

The call came ninety minutes later. Meetra and her crew met Nevran and about thirty of his men in a tunnel just out of view of one of the doors into the warehouse office. Nevran stepped forward and saluted. "All the troopers are in place, General. I have groups of men ready by the other doors, ready to rush the building when you give the word. More are waiting to hit the Exchange patrolling the perimeter of the quad, and defend the area against Exchange reinforcements."

"Atton, you know what to do," Meetra said quietly. Atton grinned and activated his stealth belt. Two thugs guarded the door: a Nikto with a blaster pistol, and a Trandoshan carrying a double-blade. Atton reappeared behind the Nikto and reached around to slit his throat. As the first thug fell, the Trandoshan froze for a fatal second before reaching for his weapon. Meetra stepped around the corner and threw her lightsaber to take the lizard's head off. With the guards dead, T3 rolled forward to work on the door. He had it open in seconds, and Meetra led the way into Saquesh's stronghold. The crew followed her closely, with Nevran and his men further back. Meetra turned a corner to see the entrance to the secure room-and the six thugs guarding it. She attacked headlong, saber in one hand and her short sword in the other. Meetra killed the thugs in less than fifteen seconds, but that wasn't fast enough to stop one from hitting a security alarm.

"Frakk!" Meetra pointed to T3 and snapped her fingers. The astromech plugged into the door's security panel and began cracking the system. Nevran clicked his comlink, then waved, and his men moved out to hold several nearby hallway junctions. Muffled explosions announced the other teams blasting their way into the building. Firefights broke out on several levels of the building, as well as throughout the streets and tunnels surrounding the refugee quad.

Inside the office building, T3 let out a satisfied beep. The door to the secure room slid open, revealing more than a hundred children squeezed in like cattle. Several of Nevran's men began taking names, matching the kids to Hussef's list. Nevran walked up to Meetra with a worried look on his face. "We've accounted for all but one of the kids, Nadaa's daughter Adana."

"She's upstairs with the Overseer." One of the newly-freed hostages pointed down the hallway. "Saquesh is keeping her for himself."

"The hell he is!" Nevran shot Meetra a look of grim determination, then jerked his head at one of his men. "Hold the approaches to this room. Keep the kids secure. We're going to finish this."

* * *

 **A/N: The refugee sector is written much larger that it is shown in-game. There are always limits to the technology, and there are only about three dozen people in the game version. I have expanded it to a city-size slum. My concept for the refugee area is partly based on the old New York immigrant neighborhoods from the turn of the last century, and partly based on an article I read about people in the Third World living in converted shipping containers (which is what they were using in the game, it just wasn't expressly stated.) The game didn't use the vertical space in the quad, but in real life, those shipping containers can stack 10-12 units high. With a little jury-rigging, they'd make better-than-nothing apartments.**


	18. Nar Shaddaa, part five

**Disclaimer: Ta;oew nur aNoghet Lucasarts awoierb vren. (This _is_ gibberish)**

* * *

Two Serroco veterans stood in cover on either side of an open doorway. One peeked around the doorframe, then jerked his head back as two blaster bolts sizzled by. Nevran slid in next to him. "What's the situation?"

The trooper shook his head. "The turbolifts are all stopped and locked down at the top of the shafts. They've barricaded every access to the upper floors. The hallways in front of the barricades are a kill zone with no cover. Good news, the Overseer is cornered up on the fourth floor. The only way he can get out of here is if a speeder comes in to pick him up from the roof."

Nevran grinned at Meetra. "Saquesh won't run-if he does, he's finished with Visquis and Goto. He'll try to win this fight with his remaining thugs, maybe bring in more from outside the sector. We can hold off outside reinforcements for a while at least."

Meetra nodded. "So, we need to fight our way upstairs, rescue the hostage, and deal with Saquesh. I'll lead the breakthrough here, then your men should use this hall and stair to flank the other barricades and clear the building."

"Give me a moment to get set up." Nevran spoke into his comlink for a few moments. After a minute or so, more of his troopers arrived, ready to follow Meetra in. "We're ready, General."

Meetra took a breath, then drew her saber and swung around the corner. The thugs at the far end immediately opened fire; Meetra deflected the bolts away. Atton and Nevran came up behind her, engaging the thugs at the barricade with blaster fire. The Exchange goons tried to hold out, but with a Jedi charging at them, they broke and fled upstairs. Meetra hacked the barricade apart and swept the wreckage aside. They began to climb the stairs. Nevran's men fanned out across the second floor to attack the other barricades from behind; Nevran himself stayed with Meetra. Eventually, they reached the top floor to find the door welded shut. Meetra drove her lightsaber through the door, then began cutting her way around the frame. Bao-Dur's remote flitted to the opposite side of the door and started its own cut. Bao-Dur stood ready to be the first one in.

The door fell out of its frame, hitting the floor with a clang. Bao-Dur stepped through the hole to find a big room full of Gamorreans. The guards raised their axes and charged. Bao-Dur blocked with his force pike and began driving them back. Meetra, Handmaiden and Kreia moved up alongside him, battling through the crowd of thugs towards Saquesh's office. Atton and Nevran trailed behind, firing at anything they could hit. More thugs streamed into the room from other doors as Saquesh called every last guard to protect him. A Weequay got past Kreia and rushed Atton, who ducked the first slash. Atton grabbed the alien's sword arm and they wrestled, falling to the ground. The Weequay dropped his sword and grabbed Atton's gun hand, bashing it into the floor until Atton dropped the blaster. Atton grabbed the alien's shoulder and rolled on top, then raised his knife. The thug twisted out of the way as Atton struck; he slammed the knife into the floor, snapping the blade off. The Weequay kicked Atton off and ran for the fallen pistol. Atton tackled him and they rolled again, fighting for control of the blaster. Atton was weaker, and couldn't stop the barrel inching toward his head. The Weequay smiled triumphantly and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened; Atton had flicked on the safety. The Weequay blinked in confusion and Atton broke his nose with a head butt. The alien reeled and Atton finished him with a point-blank shot.

"Right," Meetra said. "All that's left is the Overseer's office. Bao-Dur, why don't you knock and see if he's in?"

The Zabrak grinned, walked up to the door, and smashed it in with two powerful blows of his mechanical arm. Meetra walked through-and froze in place. Saquesh was standing with his back to the panoramic window. He was holding Adana in one hand and a pistol in the other; he was alternating between pointing the blaster at Meetra and the girl's head. "Stop right there! Another step closer, and the brat dies." The Quarren tapped the barrel of his gun against Adana's head. "I'm walking out of here with the hostage. There's a speeder coming to the roof to take me out of the sector."

Meetra doused her lightsaber. "Let her go, Saquesh."

The Quarren clicked his fangs. "Not yet. Once I'm safely away from here, I'll contact you on comm and tell you where to find the girl."

"He's lying!" Adana cried. "If he takes me out of here, he'll keep me or sell me. Don't let the squid-head get away, don't you dare! He'll just hurt someone else."

Saquesh smiled nastily. "Oh, you'll let me go, you will, or I'll kill her, right in front of you!"

By now, the others had entered the room and cut off any chance Saquesh had of getting out the door. Meetra glanced at Bao-Dur, who had his disruptor rifle up and aimed. "Do you have a shot?"

The Zabrak shook his head. "Sorry, General."

Meetra considered cutting off the Quarren's gun hand, but even with the Force, she wouldn't get there fast enough to stop him killing the hostage. She thought about a mind trick, but those weren't a sure thing. A speeder appeared in the distance, flying toward the building. Saquesh grinned. "There's my transport. Stand aside, _now_."

"Shoot him! I'd rather die than see him escape, do you hear me?" Adana sounded furious, not frightened. She tried to struggle free, but Saquesh put his arm around her neck, pulling her to tiptoe. The blonde girl reached up and grabbed his arm as he choked her. Adana met Meetra's eyes and winked: Saquesh had left her hands free when he moved his arm. She reached up and pushed the blaster away from her head, then slammed her other elbow into Saquesh's crotch. Saquesh grunted and bent double, loosening his grip on Adana. She twisted loose and ran toward the door; Handmaiden hustled her out of danger. Saquesh tried to bring the gun around, but he was too slow; Meetra blasted him with the Force and he went through the window. Saquesh's scream was followed by a wet thud and groans of pain from below. Meetra and Nevran ran to the window. Saquesh had landed feet first, and at least one leg was broken. He was trying to get up, but he couldn't. Someone realized who he was and yelled angrily. Saquesh cried in alarm and began crawling away. It was obvious he'd never make it; people were closing in with knives and clubs while others looked on. The crowd was jeering, laughing cruelly at the Quarren's terror. Meetra threw her lightsaber to finish Saquesh off, then lifted the body and tossed it down an air shaft.

Nevran frowned. "Why did you let him off easy?"

Meetra shook her head. "It wasn't about him, it was about them." She jerked her head toward the refugee camp. "What they were about to do would have changed them forever, as you well know." She walked into the outer room where Adana was waiting, closely guarded by Atton and Handmaiden. "Let's get you home."

Nevran smiled. "Let's get them all home."

* * *

The veterans walked out of the building to the cheers of the crowd. Many of the smaller children were in the troopers' arms, or riding on their shoulders; the older kids ran between them and into the crowd to find their families. The refugees thronged around the soldiers, hugging them, clapping them on the back, or handing out bottles of ale and juma. It was the heroes' welcome they had been denied for five years; Nevran wept openly. A celebration began which would last more than a day, and Meetra let her crew relax and enjoy themselves for a while.

Meetra was leaning against a container, relaxing, when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see two Twi'lek men, one blue and one orange. "We have something to tell you, something you might like to know. But it is for your ears alone, not an audience."

 _They might know something about Zez-Kai Ell_. Meetra nodded and they moved to a quiet corner away from the crowd. "All right, let's hear it."

"Your human companion, the male one, we have seen him before," said the blue Twi'lek.

Meetra glanced over to the party, where Atton was teaching Handmaiden to dance. "Who, Atton?"

"That was not the name we knew him by," the orange Twi'lek replied. "That one came to the smuggler's moon years into the Jedi Civil War, claimed he had been displaced by the war." The Twi'lek fixed Meetra with a serious stare. "Don't trust him. He is not a soldier-he is a killer, tried and true. I can give you nothing more than that warning-the rest is up to you." The Twi'leks turned and vanished into the back alleys of the quad.

Meetra turned and looked at Atton and Handmaiden, who were now doing an Alderaan Weavers' Reel. _I've never sensed any malice from him. He'll tell me in his own time, if he wants to._ She turned and headed for the ship, then stopped on a balcony near the entrance to look over the quad.

Bao-Dur walked up beside her. "You know, I'm glad I found you, General."

"Why is that?" Meetra asked.

"We were together at Malachor," the Zabrak replied. "I don't know if anyone else could understand. Ever since we destroyed the Mandalorians, I've tried to do my part to fix what the war broke."

Meetra nodded. "It's a big job. I'm not sure I'd know where to start."

"Here." Bao-Dur pointed down at the party below. "Right here, with one group of refugees. One part at a time, and eventually the machine runs under its own power."

Meetra laughed lightly. "It's all wires and switches to you, huh?"

Bao-Dur nodded. "That's the way I see things. Traveling with you, I know there's something else in the universe, but I can't do anything about it anyways. So I'll leave it to you to take care of." He looked over the revelers, a sort of quiet contentment on his face. "Having you here has an effect on me, General. I never noticed it years ago. I think my mind was too occupied then."

"What do you mean?" asked Meetra.

"I feel… calm," Bao-Dur said. "More in control. The anger is still there, but I can feel it drifting away. The last years of my life have been defined by it-the Mandalorians, Czerka and Revan. And above all else, myself, for Malachor."

Meetra sighed. "Had you not done what you did, millions of innocents in the Republic would have been killed. You saved them."

"Even if I did it out of hatred of the Mandalorians?" Bao-Dur asked quietly.

Meetra pointed down at the refugees. "You did it to save us, to protect us from death."

The Zabrak sighed. "That might be the truth, but I don't want to see it that way. I can't just ignore the blood on my hands."

"You have dwelled in the past for too long," Meetra said. "You cannot undo history, but you can change the future."

Bao-Dur shrugged. "I still feel like I need to do something, to make up for it. That's what I was trying to do at Telos."

"Learn the ways of the Force," Meetra said gently. "I could teach you. But you must let go of your anger, or else it will destroy you, and you will fall."

Bao-Dur looked down at his hands, then out at the refugees and veterans. "Under your guidance, I feel like I could overcome my anger." He stood straight and looked Meetra in the eye. "Thank you for your trust, General. I will learn from you, if you wish me to."

Meetra smiled. "Then we have no time to waste. I will begin training you tomorrow morning." They began their walk back to the ship.

* * *

Meetra's eyes snapped open, and she sat up in her bunk. Something was wrong-a disturbance in the Force. She checked her chrono-it was early in the morning, would be before dawn on a world with a normal day cycle. Meetra looked across to see Kreia awake as well. "I feel it, too. Ready yourself."

Meetra pulled on clothes, grabbed her weapons, and headed out. As she left the dormitory, the door slammed shut and magnetically sealed. Meetra tried for a moment to get it open, but realized quickly that she was in a well-set trap. _No doubt the others are locked in their quarters as well._ There was nothing for it but to head down the passageway. Meetra followed the presence in the Force and found a young woman kneeling on the floor of the main hold. She wore maroon and black robes and a maroon veil trimmed with gilt cloth.

"Who are you?" Meetra asked sharply.

The woman said nothing, but stood and turned to face Meetra. She drew a lightsaber; the blade was blood-red. Meetra caught her breath. _A Sith!_ She drew her own lightsaber and short sword. The Sith moved in, drawing a stun baton in her left hand. Meetra remembered the shock she had received from Luxa's baton; she kept her guard up, watching for attacks from her opponent's off hand. The first swing came from the Sith's saber. Meetra parried easily and responded with a chest-high slash from her own lightsaber. The Sith barely got her baton there in time to avoid being cut in half. She tried again, this time jabbing with her baton. Meetra blocked to the outside, leaving the Sith's torso open. The Sith leapt backward to avoid Meetra's counter, but Meetra followed up with a straight kick to the gut. The Sith brought both weapons up, breathing heavily, and attacked again.

The duel was very puzzling. Meetra was defending herself with little or no effort. Not only was the Sith of only mediocre skill, her attacks were halfhearted. _It would be easy enough to kill her, but she can't talk if she's dead._ Meetra whirled her saber and sword, then went on the attack. She kept the Sith busy with blocking her blades and connected with several more kicks to the stomach and ribs. The Sith threw one arm forward. Meetra braced herself for a push. The blast didn't knock her down, but she went unexpectedly blind. Meetra blinked; her vision returned, but dim and blurry, with strange, flickering colors. She took a deep breath and settled back into a ready stance. Every Padawan trained blindfolded, to learn to feel other people through the Force; that training would now be put to the test. The Sith woman raised her baton and Meetra angled her saber to defend that side. She concentrated on the woman's presence in the Force and was moving as soon as the attack came. Meetra stopped the baton with her saber and twisted, spinning it out of the Sith's hand. She kicked the baton away, down the hall toward the cockpit. The Sith took a two-handed stance and went for Meetra's legs. Meetra parried and slashed at the woman's throat. The Sith blocked, and Meetra hit her in the head with the flat of her short sword. She staggered and Meetra blew her across the room with a full-power push.

The woman hit the wall hard and her saber went out. She fell to the deck, dazed, and tried to reignite her saber, but it would not switch on. The Sith looked up at Meetra. "My lightsaber… you have destroyed it." She knelt. "I yield, master. It is as I heard through the Force. My life… for yours."

Meetra shook her head. "I will not kill you."

"You _must_." The woman sounded desperate. "The alternative is only another death, and I would rather die by your hands."

 _She is terrified of her master._ Meetra doused her lightsaber. "Look, you're wounded. Stand, let me get you to the med bay."

"I… have nothing to offer you," the woman said quietly. "Your strength is superior… it is as I felt." She tried to stand up, but lapsed into unconsciousness and fell. Meetra caught her and lowered her gently to the deck.

There was a sound of groaning metal, and Bao-Dur ran into the main hold, with Atton close on his heels. "General! General, are you all right?"

Meetra blinked, trying to clear her vision. "I'm fine, just a little shook up. Help me get her to medical, I really roughed her up." Atton bent to help Meetra lift the Sith woman, and they carried her to the bed in the medical bay. Atton removed the woman's clothes and began working on her injuries. Meetra felt a chill as she saw that the woman was covered in scars and old bruises. She left the med bay and took a seat in the main hold, catching her breath. After a while, her vision almost returned to normal, except for odd flashes of color when she closed her eyes.

Two hours passed, and Atton called Meetra into the med bay. The woman was asleep on the bed, re-dressed and with a kolto patch covering the cut on her head. "Now I've seen everything," Atton said. "This woman… she's a Miraluka. I didn't think any were left in this part of the galaxy."

"Is her kind rare?" asked Meetra.

Atton nodded. "Yeah, they're a pretty secretive race." He indicated the woman's face; her eye sockets were covered with skin. "Miraluka have no eyes, people say they use the Force to see. I heard that some of their kind become Jedi, but a Sith? That's, well, that's a new one." He shook his head. "I heard they had a colony on the Mid Rim, almost halfway between Onderon and Dantooine. Then… it wasn't there anymore. The whole planet was wiped out, nothing left alive, no one knows why."

Meetra looked down at the unconscious woman. "Maybe she knows." She took a breath. "Is she going to be all right?"

"Well, some of her wounds are pretty bad-looks like she was already carrying her share of scars, though." Atton put his hands on his hips. "I think she'll recover, yeah."

"If her condition changes, let me know," said Meetra. "I didn't want to hurt her." She turned and left the med bay.

Handmaiden was waiting just outside the door. "She is a threat to us."

Meetra frowned. "I won't harm her, if that's what you're asking."

"I am not asking that she be harmed or interrogated," Handmaiden replied, "but she is of the Sith. And she has attacked us once. She should not be allowed to walk freely on the ship."

Meetra rubbed her chin. "I hadn't intended to let her. I need you to move into the dormitory with Kreia and me. We'll be using the cargo bay to lock her up. Once she's in good enough shape, I want you and Atton to put her on the bed in there."

Handmaiden nodded. "It will be as you say."

"Yesterday was draining." Meetra stretched. "I'm going to get some more sleep. We'll see about the Miraluka later on."

* * *

Meetra caught a few more hours of rest, but didn't really sleep. By mid-morning, the Miraluka was in good enough shape to be moved to the bed Handmaiden had set up in the cargo hold. Bao-Dur rigged a locking mechanism to prevent the door being opened from the inside, and a camera to watch the prisoner. The crew took turns guarding the door until the Miraluka stirred. Once she woke up, she took a moment to examine her surroundings, then sat on the floor to meditate. Meetra opened the door and entered; Bao-Dur locked it behind her. The Miraluka scrambled to her feet and bowed her head. Meetra crossed her arms. "Are you all right?"

"I am able to serve," the Miraluka said. "If we enter battle, I will fight and die alongside you."

"That's not what I asked," said Meetra. "I asked if you were all right."

"I… I have not heard that question in some time." The Sith raised her head. "My flesh is healed, if that's the answer you seek."

Meetra nodded. "Now, let's start at the beginning. What is your name and world of birth?"

"I am Visas Marr," she replied. "My homeworld was the Miraluka colony of Katarr, now destroyed by my Master."

Meetra chose her next words carefully. "In med bay, I… we… noticed you have scars. Who hurt you?"

"The scars are many, and their causes equally so," Visas said listlessly. "It is of no importance."

 _Systematic abuse. Her desire to turn may be genuine._ Meetra crossed her arms. "How did you find me?"

"I felt you, heard you, through the Force," said Visas. "It was like a sound, at the edge of hearing. And when I heard it, I found I could not ignore it."

"Who sent you?" asked Meetra.

"I serve my Master. I am an emissary, a scout." Visas sat on her bed, resting her arms on her knees. "My Master was aware of a disturbance in the Force, but was unaware of its nature, of you. The disturbance is not something one feels from a living thing. There is little my Master does not know, and that you eluded his sight for so long is significant, but I do not know why. I was to track you down, bring you back as a captive."

Meetra cocked her head. "If your master has trouble detecting me, how are you able to do it?"

"There is much I see my Master cannot," Visas answered. "I fear it is because of my nature, the nature of my race. My people spend their lives seeing the galaxy, the energy streaming off stars, the growth of life-all things touched by the Force."

Meetra crouched down in front of her. "I need to know where I can find your Master."

"You cannot." Visas shook her head. "His vessel roams the borders of known space, and even I do not know where he travels, until he calls for me." She took a breath. "You _will_ meet my master. It is inevitable, I have seen it. And when you stand before him, and realize what you face, you must be prepared. Until then, I must protect you, help you, until you are ready. There is a greatness in you, a greatness that does not stem from the Force. It stems from who you are. And if my Master does not understand you, cannot see you, then perhaps there is hope for us all."

Meetra nodded. "I will consider this." She paused. "One more question: you never said who your master was."

Visas' mouth opened and shut twice without any sound coming out; she began to tremble. "Please," she gasped, "do not make me say it aloud."

 _She's afraid to even speak her master's name!_ Meetra laid a hand on Visas' shoulder. "Calm yourself." Visas sobbed with relief; Meetra stood. "Rest for now. In a short while, I'll have one of the crew bring you a meal. We will talk more later on."

Visas stood. "Forgive me, but before you go, I must ask. Why do you do this? Why do you seek to help me, teach me?"

Meetra took Visas' hands. "Because I believe you can be saved."

"You must not do this," Visas said urgently. "I cannot allow you to weaken yourself for me."

"To help another is not weakness, it is strength to them both," Meetra said as she left the room. "Let that be your first lesson in the ways of the Jedi."

* * *

The crew sat around the holodisplay in the main hold, eating a late breakfast. "Well, General," asked Bao-Dur, "Has the Sith said anything yet?"

Meetra shrugged. "Yeah-she wants to join the crew."

"I'll _bet_ she does," Atton snorted, "Make it that much easier to get another shot at you."

"I'm thinking about it," said Meetra.

Handmaiden's mouth fell open. "Why? She just tried to kill you!"

Meetra shook her head. "No. Her orders were to capture me, and when we dueled, her heart wasn't in it. I think she wanted to die." Meetra glanced at Atton. "Those scars we saw? Her master did that to her; she's been tortured repeatedly."

"And you think you can turn her," Atton said skeptically.

"I'm not sure," said Meetra. "I'm going to continue talking to her, and see where things lead." She turned to Handmaiden. "After you've eaten, take a meal in to Visas. Once she's finished eating, escort her to the 'fresher, then put her back in the hold." Handmaiden nodded curtly.

Meetra blinked; the strange colors were still appearing when she closed her eyes. The smart thing to do was talk to Kreia, so Meetra made her way to the port dormitory. Kreia turned to face her as she entered. "You have befriended the seer. The Sith carry the battle to you, and you spare them! And as we travel, the empty places of this ship are filled."

Meetra tapped her fingers against her upper arm. "I think I can help her. She doesn't seem… evil."

"I hope your thoughts on this matter are clear," sighed Kreia. "If you take her on as a servant, know that the Sith meet their end at the hands of their apprentices. It is not something I would wish to happen to you." She folded her arms into her sleeves. "Like the servant of Atris, this one… has other masters. Though blind, she has ties to darkness."

"Ties to her master, perhaps," said Meetra. "And whether Visas is my follower or my prisoner, I intend to follow that bond to its source when the opportunity presents itself."

Kreia chuckled. "Wisdom and folly again, I see." She crossed her arms. "Now, you came to see me for a reason. What is it that drives you?"

Meetra rubbed her temples. "When Visas attacked me, she did something to my eyesight."

"She did nothing to your eyes that was not already there," said Kreia. "She has forced this upon you, but such crude methods are the markings of the Sith." Kreia knelt on the deck and motioned Meetra down in front of her. "Close your eyes."

Meetra did; Kreia's voice began to sound strange, distant, as if echoing through a cave. "Feel this ship around you. The welding of the droid as it goes about its work."

Meetra could feel-almost _hear_ -T3 working on a panel, the sizzling of the torch. "Hey, T3 has a stuck motivator. I can _feel_ it!"

"Shhh," said Kreia. "Ignore distractions, and focus on my voice. Now, stretch out." Meetra concentrated. "The breathing of the blinded one as she meditates in the dark." Meetra could feel Visas inhaling, holding, exhaling, slow and regular. "Now listen deeper. Past her breathing, and listen."

Meetra allowed herself to relax, and the sound of Visas' breath faded. There was something beyond it. _As my feet walk from the ashes of Katarr, I shall not fear, for in fear, lies death, and…_

Meetra's eyes flew open. "I just heard her thoughts, didn't I?"

Kreia nodded. "You are strong indeed. What you heard were surface thoughts only, but it is something that masters have trained for, for years, and never learned."

"How did I do that?" asked Meetra, shaking her head.

"That is not the real question you should ask," Kreia replied. "Is such listening enough to perceive the world around you? It is not. Because to listen to the thoughts of another is much like attempting to see the universe with only your eyes. It is equally limiting." Kreia took a deep, slow breath. "You have brushed the surface thoughts of another. It is a start, but there is more. Calm yourself. This time, silence your own thoughts, keep them still."

Kreia's voice began to fade away. "Imagine the waters of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, each stream suddenly falling silent and still. Imagine the ice of Telos, cold and smooth, as it gathers upon the plateau. Now stretch out, feel the ship around you. Strip away the metal, and see the souls and minds of those that feel its corridors, with more thoughts and dreams and worries than can fill the space of this ship."

Meetra sank into meditation, letting her consciousness drift through the ship. She felt Visas, still repeating her mantra. Beyond Visas was Handmaiden, training in the garage. _From the first movement flows the second… strike, repeat, circle one's opponent… repeat, faster, quicker… if Father had been faster… if only Father had been faster… if I was faster, I would no longer be the last of my sisters… but does Atris love her? Jedi do not love. Does Atris hate her? Jedi do not hate. This journey is harder than any she has sent me on._

Meetra shifted her focus to Atton, sitting in the cockpit. What she heard was very odd. _Switch the face of the +1/-1 card, the totals are nine-ten. Switch the face of the +2/-2 card, the total is eight-eleven. Switch…_

Meetra mentally shook herself and moved finally to Bao-Dur. The Zabrak was sitting awkwardly on the floor of the starboard dormitory, trying to meditate. _Your command echoes still, General. And I obey, as I did at Malachor._

Meetra sank deeper and her focus broadened. She could hear all the crew at once. Outside the ship, the mass of people joined into a rumble that washed over her like a deep river. And then, Kreia joined the others. _Now do you hear me? Truly hear me?_

 _I hear you,_ Meetra answered. _This… this is incredible._

"You have taken the first steps on a much larger road, exile." This time, Kreia actually spoke, snapping Meetra out of her meditation.

Meetra stood, taking a moment to catch her breath. "What about T3?"

Kreia shook her head. "The droid cannot be read in such a way-as for the alien who served with you in the war, its thoughts are more difficult, requiring many translations in meaning. Often it is better to read their impulses and images than their spoken thoughts. That is why he is deaf to you. I have found his impulses are cold, like a dead weight, his thoughts are black."

"But I did hear something from Bao-Dur," Meetra said.

"Indeed?" Kreia asked sharply, "It is strange that I did not."

Meetra tapped one hand against her other arm. "Perhaps it is because I know him better, I served with him."

"Perhaps," said Kreia. "It is also possible that you have formed a training bond with him. He has accepted you as a master, after all."

"There was also something wrong with Atton's thoughts," Meetra said slowly.

Kreia nodded. "Of course there was. It is because Atton was not playing pazaak, yet he counts cards in his head. At times, he will list off engine sequencers, memorize the hyperspace routes on the other side of the galaxy, count the ticking in the power couplings even though they are fixed. At other times, he will imagine certain… base lusts, certain indignities." She smiled faintly. "It may be Atton is far cleverer than he feigns to be. Or perhaps he is simply a fool."

"Perhaps," said Meetra. "Maybe I will go see him-and see how his pazaak game is going."

* * *

 **A/N: There should have been an option to recruit the Serroco, not just intimidate them. (I suspect cut content) The Exile served on Serroco; the veterans would have known her. What do you think of my take? Please, review or send me a PM!**


	19. Nar Shaddaa, part six

**Disclaimer: I didn't invent pazaak, but I sure love playing it.**

* * *

Atton sat in the cockpit with his feet up on the console, sipping a cup of caf. Outside, the skyways formed ever-changing streams of light. Meetra poured herself a cup and flopped down in the copilot's seat. Atton looked over. "Hey, boss. Busy couple of days."

"Yeah," said Meetra, "and we're not done yet. I expect we'll hear from the Exchange soon, either Visquis or Goto himself. But after that, we're no closer to finding Master Zez-Kai."

"Maybe one of the refugees knows something," Atton suggested. "If not, it may be time for a Jedi trick, if you've got one."

Meetra looked over at him for a moment, hesitated, and then took the plunge. "Atton, why do you play pazaak in your head?"

He shrugged. "Passes the time. It's better than listing off engine sequencers, memorizing hyperspace routes, or counting ticks in the power couplings."

"But you do all those things," Meetra said.

"Why do I play pazaak?" Atton paused, then he seemed to come to a decision. "All right, I'll show you." He pulled a dealer's deck out of a pouch on his belt, along with his side deck. Meetra produced her own side deck and they began to play. The first set went to Meetra; she knew Atton was a better player than this, but she supposed he had a reason for keeping the game competitive. Atton took the next set after several tie hands. Before the third set, he abruptly stopped. "Good match. Now, what are you thinking about right now?"

Meetra shrugged. "I was trying to compute the totals to twenty."

"Right," Atton said emphatically. "And that's why I play pazaak in my head. Because if you don't, you've left the door open. And anyone could walk right in."

"Atton, before, I felt your mind," Meetra said guiltily. "While training with Kreia. I'm sorry."

Atton grunted. "Of course you did. You see, Jedi-light or dark-do it, more often than you'd think. But I never heard one say they were sorry before." He smiled faintly. "That's a new house rule."

Meetra nodded. "You play pazaak to shield your thoughts."

"No, I play pazaak in my head," said Atton. "But while I'm doing that, it's a lot harder for someone to walk in."

"Can you teach me to shield my thoughts?" asked Meetra.

" _No,_ " Atton said emphatically. "I can only teach you to play pazaak. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Meetra's eyes widened as she understood his meaning. "Then I want to learn to play pazaak."

"Good. Now you understand." Atton gathered up his cards. "If you're ever fighting someone who has the power over your mind-whether light or dark-play pazaak. Start listing hyperspace routes. Recite engine sequencers. And when they try to use their powers on you, suddenly it's not as easy as they thought." He looked right into Meetra's eyes. "Jedi do it all the time, and when they walk in the dark places of your mind, they'll use it to hold you by the throat."

All of a sudden, something in Meetra's head just went _click_.

 _A stealth belt. Echani training. Mental defense. Refugees who warn me he's a killer._ Meetra struggled with herself. _Atton's helped me, fought beside me. I've never felt any malice from him. I never would-he can shroud his mind. I have to ask._ Meetra bit her lip. "Atton, I met a refugee who says he knows you."

"Yeah? That's a surprise. Did he say I owed him credits, too?" Atton's humor was clearly forced.

"He says you're not 'Atton' at all," Meetra said quietly. "That you showed up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War."

"I'm as Atton as Atton will ever be," he snapped, "and whoever your trusted informant is, he's right. I did show up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War, along with a lot of other refugees."

Meetra pursed her lips. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Atton rose from his seat. "No, because you're asking about it. If I wanted to tell you something, I would have come and told you. Anything else?"

"I've spoken with Handmaiden and Kreia, and I already knew Bao-Dur," Meetra said evenly. "I think I have a right to know about your past."

Atton pointed a finger in her face. "You know what? Not once have I asked you about the Mandalorian Wars. Not once." He crossed his arms. "I heard about Dxun. Everyone has. I heard about Serroco, and I sure as hell heard about Malachor V. What makes you think you've got the right to interrogate me on anything? You've got plenty of lives to answer for-all you Jedi do."

Meetra stood and spread her hands. "If you've got a question, then ask."

"How did you even live with yourself after Malachor?" Atton asked spitefully. "Is that why you went back to the Jedi Council? Hoping they'd kill you?"

"It wasn't like that," Meetra said.

Atton' eyes widened in mock surprise. "Wasn't it? Maybe you thought they'd forgive you-sure you might have thought they'd execute you. But Jedi don't kill, do they? At least not their prisoners. Maybe you were counting on that when you went back in chains. So you got off easy-you were exiled, brushed under the cargo ramp, another dirty little Jedi secret." He stared into her face. "I'll tell you-all those Jedi at Malachor? They deserved it. Every last one of them."

Meetra winced, thinking of faces she would never see again. "They did not deserve it. Why would you even say that?"

"Because Jedi lie," Atton replied. "And they manipulate. And every act of charity or kindness they do, you can drag it out squirming into the light and see it for what it is. The galaxy doesn't need Jedi arrogance or Jedi hypocrisy anymore."

"The Jedi are guardians of the peace," Meetra insisted. "They are not as you describe."

Atton slammed a fist into the bulkhead. "The Jedi, the Sith… you don't get it, do you? To the galaxy, they're the same thing, just men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion, while the rest of us burn." He snorted. "At least the Sith are honest about what they're killing for. The Jedi are pacifists-except in times of war. They're teachers-except when it comes to telling their students the truth. And when they save you, it's only so you can suffer more." He turned his back to her. "Just leave me alone. I don't know why I'm wasting time with you anyway."

Meetra was speechless; Atton's sudden explosion had utterly surprised her. She reached out and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Atton, what happened to you?"

Atton didn't turn around. "Don't get too attached to me-I don't like it."

"Why not?" asked Meetra.

"Because I'm a deserter," he said. "It's what I do."

Meetra blinked. "You served in the war?"

"Served in both of them," Atton replied. "Against the Mandalorians, before and after Revan, and again… when Revan declared war on the Jedi."

Meetra gasped. "You were Sith?"

"That's just a name," he said. "It's what we did that was important. But it was more than that. You were there, you knew how easy it was to hate the Jedi who sat back in the Republic 'evaluating' the threat… and watched us die against the Mandalorians. You can't believe in the Republic anymore after the Mandalorian Wars. After Revan, nothing was the same. After that final battle at Malachor, I was right there with the rest of the defectors, because it was the right thing to do."

"You took an oath," said Meetra, "what you did was a betrayal."

"No, it wasn't," said Atton. "We needed the Jedi during the Mandalorian Wars, more than anything. The Mandalorians were slaughtering us by the millions. The millions." As Atton spoke, his usual demeanor fell away to reveal a thousand-yard stare. "You were at Serroco, when they turned the Stereb cities into glass craters. At Duro, when basilisk war droids rained like meteors onto the orbiting cities, and when the Mandalorians set fire to the Xoxin plains on Eres III-the fires that _still burn_. Without the Jedi who turned on the Council, without you, the Republic would have lost the war, and we would all be Mandalorian slaves or corpses."

Meetra shook her head. "That is no reason to start another war against the Republic and end more lives."

Atton sighed. "We were loyal to Revan. That was enough. He saved us."

"What happened then?" Meetra asked.

"After Malachor, after the Mandalorian Wars, that's when the Sith teachings started spreading through the ranks," said Atton. "We knew where our loyalties lay: to the Jedi who came to help us, not the ones who sat back on Dantooine and Coruscant, watching us die. So when those same Jedi who watched us die decided to start fighting us during the Jedi Civil War, we fought back. I fought back."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "You fought Jedi?"

"I didn't fight Jedi, I killed them," Atton said quietly, "A lot of them. People say killing Jedi is hard. It's not, you just have to be smart about it. No blasters, no getting close to them, no attacking them directly when you can gun down their allies instead. There's ways of gassing them, drugging them, making them lose control, torturing them. I was really good at it." He ignored Meetra's shocked expression and continued in a flat monotone, looking out the cockpit window. "What's worse, is that killing them wasn't the best thing. Making them fall, making them see our side of it, that was the best."

"You make it sound easy," Meetra said, shaken.

Atton shrugged. "I taught myself… techniques. It's hard for Jedi to sense what you're really thinking if you throw up walls of strong emotions and feelings. Lust, impatience, cowardice, most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper. And I was good at that, throwing up walls, and my superiors knew it. Sometimes the Jedi on our side wouldn't even realize I was there."

"So it's like your mental pazaak," said Meetra. "You force emotions, to block someone reading your mind."

"Part of it," said Atton. "Maybe it was always me. It's hard to tell sometimes. I haven't known who I am for years. I wasn't the only one." He turned to face Meetra again. "I know you left at the Mandalorian Wars, so you don't know much about what went on behind the scenes in the Jedi Civil War. Revan understood one thing: the real battle was going to be fought between the Jedi on both sides. That was the only battle that mattered."

"So it all came down to Jedi, and the Force," said Meetra.

"Whoever had the most, the strongest Jedi was going to win the Civil War," said Atton. "If Revan couldn't convert Jedi, then Revan would kill them. So he trained elite Sith units into assassination squads, whose duty was to go out and capture enemy Jedi. I was in one of the special units trained to do this."

Meetra was still trying to wrap her mind around what Atton had told her. "Why are you telling me this? You're telling a Jedi you killed Jedi. I can't read you, Atton, you could have made up any story you liked."

Atton met her eyes. "Because you've killed Jedi too. Different circumstances, but you have a bigger body count than I ever did. And I've been with you only a short time, enough to know that as soon as someone signs on with you, they haven't got long to live. You got history, and anyone who travels with you doesn't. And maybe I want somebody to know who I was in case a story needs to be set straight. Maybe you understand."

Meetra tilted her head. "Atton, why did you leave the Sith?"

Atton's face twitched. "Well, there was a woman. A Jedi. She… she gave her life for mine."

"Who?" Meetra asked.

"I never knew her name. She sought me out. She said she had come to save me." Atton shook his head. "She was lying, of course-or I think she was. It doesn't matter; she told enough truth to get my attention. She said that Revan was doing something terrible to Jedi within the Unknown Regions. That when we captured Jedi, they were sent to a place designed to break them. And that anyone in his service who showed any ability with the Force was sent there, too, to turn them, to break them into Dark Jedi… or assassins trained to kill Jedi. She said that's what would happen to me-that I had the Force inside me, that's why I was so good at killing Jedi. And that when the Sith learned of it, there would be no escape, no turning back. I would become an instrument of the dark side, forever." He dropped into the nav chair, sitting sideways with his back to the bulkhead. "I had heard talk in the ranks, troops vanishing. In knew what she meant, but I didn't believe her-or want to believe her."

Meetra felt sick, but she needed to hear everything. "So what did you do?"

Atton stared at the floor, a haunted look in his eyes. "I did what I did with all Jedi. I hurt her. I hurt her a lot. And then, right when I thought she couldn't take anymore-she showed me the Force. In my head. And I felt everything she felt, and I heard an echo of what the Force was. And how what I was doing…" Atton slumped forward in the seat, head down. "I think I loved her, but it wasn't that kind of love. It was the kind of love where you're willing to give up everything for someone you don't even know."

"That is what it means to be a Jedi," Meetra said.

"I killed her for crawling in my head, for showing me that," Atton said quietly. "But before she opened her mind to mine, my only thought was that I would love to kill her." He was shaking now, trying to hold himself together. "And at the end, I killed her _because_ I loved her."

"That is a lot to bear," Meetra said, laying a hand on Atton's back, "and it is a lot for me to forgive."

"In the end, she sacrificed herself to keep my secret, to prevent the Sith from knowing about that touch of the Force inside me. She wasted her life to save me. Me." Atton wiped away a tear. "And I felt her die, when she opened her mind. I've killed Jedi like I said, but I was never there to feel it, to be on the receiving end. And after that, I couldn't stop feeling things-before, guilt, lust, impatience, it had been orchestrated to get close-now, it all just kept tumbling out, and I couldn't keep doing what I was doing." He shrugged. "So I left. I fled with the displaced war veterans to Nar Shaddaa and I lost myself here, until the war came to an end. I wanted no more of Jedi, or Dark Jedi, or the Force. I just wanted to be left alone." Atton looked up at Meetra. "And then I met you on Peragus. And I thought maybe, maybe she had saved me so that I could help you. And if I can't then I have to try." He took a breath. "I didn't want to tell you any of this. But… I had to. Because if something happens, I can't let you think I was doing it for something other than the past."

Meetra nodded. "Then I welcome your help-and your honesty."

"Once, a Jedi showed me the Force. I heard it, I felt it. At the time, there was too much pain to confront it-because if I did, it meant I would be changed into something else." Atton hesitated. "Now, I'm not afraid of it anymore. And I think that by learning to use it, I can help protect you. Or at least buy you some time when disaster comes screaming in." He stood, head slightly bowed. "I want to learn how to use the Force. I want to learn how to use the Force to help you."

Meetra smiled. "Then I will train you, Atton."

"What must I do?" he asked nervously. "Is there some… some ritual, or…"

"Just close your eyes," Meetra replied. "And open your mind." Atton closed his eyes and she continued. "You must learn to feel it around you, feel its currents, its eddies." She stretched out to his presence in the Force, felt him still upset from reliving his dark memories. "Listen to the echo of your thoughts, your heart, separated from war, separated from hate." She felt him begin to calm, entering a more suitable state for meditation. "Think about what you felt when you felt the need to help me, protect me. And at last, Atton… awaken."

Meetra only allowed Atton to meditate for a few moments, to keep from overwhelming him. Once she stopped him, Atton opened his eyes. "It's… I can't even describe it."

"I don't think even the Masters can." Meetra smiled gently. "Partially, that is because no two people feel the Force in exactly the same way; partially, it is because words simply fall short."

Atton took a deep breath and whistled it back out. "Thank you, Meetra."

She stood. "No, thank you. It took courage to tell me that, courage and trust." She paused for a moment to think. "You should take a little time to yourself; that was a lot to go through. I'm going to ask Visas some more questions. We'll talk again at dinner."

* * *

The Miraluka was sitting on her bed when Meetra entered the cargo hold. She turned towards the door and stood, bowing her head in greeting. "Good afternoon, Jedi. You have more questions for me?"

"I do," Meetra replied. "I want like some more substantive information, starting with who you are-more than just your name."

"Very well," said Visas. "I am a little over twenty-three years old; I was born in New Alpherides, on Katarr. I learned that I was strong with the Force at the age of six; all Miraluka can feel it, but not all are what you would call 'Force Sensitive.' After my schooling, I chose to study with the Luka Sene. They are somewhat like the Jedi Order, but without any restrictions on their members' personal lives, and the Luka Sene does not train its members in combat. I had hoped to become a Seer in time, using my powers to guide young people toward their future, but it was not to be." She took a deep, steadying breath and hugged herself sadly.

"How did your master destroy your homeworld?" Meetra asked. "To kill on such a scale… it's impossible."

"It was not a thing done with machines or weapons," Visas explained. "The Force is far more terrible, and it touches more lives than any machine can hope to slay. For every one that feels the Force strongly, deeply, each one feels and perceives it in their own way. You have strengths, whether you know it or not. And my master has his. His power is great, and it comes from hunger. He is a wound in the Force, more presence than flesh, and in his wake, life dies… sacrificing itself to his hunger. And those who feel the Force strongly are beacons to his hunger. My people, my planet, would have been attacked in time, it was inevitable, yet we could do nothing about it."

Meetra shook her head. "Why did your master destroy Katarr?"

Visas sank down on her bed. "The Jedi, the last Council of the Jedi, came to our world to meet in secret. They hoped that perhaps among our people they could achieve the clarity to 'see' what was striking them from the darkness of the galaxy. They succeeded… but only in bringing him from the Outer Regions. And Katarr, with my kind, with the Jedi upon its surface, could no longer be ignored. And my people died. And the Jedi died. And there was no one left. Only me."

Meetra crossed her arms. "How did you survive?"

"I am not certain I did," Visas said quietly. "I was there when the planet died. To see everything around you extinguished… it was if I was blinded. It was as if the Force had been bled from the world. I imagine there are worse deaths, worse pain. But if there are, I do not know them. I was the only living thing remaining on the planet of Katarr, and my life, my agony, was a flicker in the darkness that was the planet. All that I had been connected to had been severed. I still wonder what would have happened if I had died with the others, if perhaps there would have been some way to hide my presence from the galaxy. If only I had not felt that pain, that loss, as strongly as I did. But it could not be done. When the life was bled from the planet, and yet somehow, I remained, my Master came for me. He walked upon the surface of my dead world, and there, lying in the bodies of my race, he took me for his own. And he made me _see_. And for the first time, I saw the galaxy. And I wished to die." She lowered her head and sobbed for a minute or two. "We remained on Katarr for some time, while my Master taught me, made me into a servant, a Shadow Hand. The death of my world did not go unnoticed; ships came, one after another, trying to find out what had happened, to aid people already dead. I tried to save them, I told them to run, but my Master always found them. I didn't want to see, so I would close my mind, shut myself off from the world, until all was quiet." Visas had drawn her knees up, almost curling into a ball on the bed. "I have served my Master ever since. There was no escape, not even death. And then, my Master sent me after you." She faced Meetra. "And perhaps, now, there is an escape for me, and a chance that my Master may be stopped."

"Maybe so," said Meetra. "But I haven't decided whether I trust you yet, Visas."

Visas nodded. "I understand. If there is anything I can do to prove myself, I will."

Meetra left and headed to the port dormitory for a moment, then went to find Atton. He was sitting in the main hold, a little shaken. "It's amazing. When I close my eyes, I can feel the people on this ship."

"Take care, Atton." Meetra sat down beside him. "You can disorient yourself by meditating too deeply or too long without practice. Limit yourself to a few minutes at a time, and don't try to stretch out beyond the ship, at least for now."

He nodded. "Do you need something, boss?"

"No, _you_ do. If you're going to train as a Jedi, you will need a proper blade." Meetra smiled and held out her long sword in its sheath.

Atton took the sword gently. He didn't draw it, just sat there for a moment, overwhelmed. "Thank you, Meetra."

She laughed lightly. "We'll see if you're still thanking me once your training starts."

* * *

The next morning, Meetra took her three students out onto the pad to begin lightsaber training. She had just gotten them through the basics of Form I when Atton's comm chirped. He checked it and frowned. "We just got this message on the comlink. Looks like trouble." He met Meetra's eyes. "I think this is something everyone will want to hear."

Meetra nodded. "Let's get back inside."

The crew gathered in the main hold; Atton gestured to T3. "The droid's the one who picked up the message-he's got it all ready to display."

T3 beeped and cued the holodisplay, which projected an image of a Quarren in expensive business clothing. "Welcome, Meetra Surik. I regret this message has taken so long in reaching you, but I only recently became aware of your presence on Nar Shaddaa." He bowed. "I am Visquis, a representative of an… exchange of shipping interests here on the smuggler's moon. I am extending an invitation to you to join me in my private lounge within the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, where we may speak without being disturbed. I wish to discuss something of mutual interest concerning your past profession-and prospects for the future." Visquis held up one finger. "Oh, and do come alone-one human in my presence is more than enough." The hologram faded out.

"Well, good thing it's not a trap," Atton deadpanned. Handmaiden hid an exasperated smile.

"It may be a trap-but traps work both ways," said Kreia. "The choice is yours. If you go, you will have to go alone, and unarmed."

Meetra shrugged. "We've been waiting for the Exchange to make a move on us. Visquis is Goto's right hand-I can use him to get to his boss." She smiled. "And a Jedi is _never_ unarmed."

"The Jekk'Jekk Tarr is an alien bar," Atton said. "It's just off the docks, near one of the far traffic pylons. He's got you at a disadvantage there, though. The place is filled with cyanogen gas. One whiff of that, and it'll be the last breath you take. On top of that, a human walking around in there isn't going to get a warm reception."

"I'll use the space suit from Peragus," said Meetra, "and I can bring T3."

Bao-Dur shook his head. "You're going to be completely on your own. The traffic pylons generate a lot of electromagnetic noise, which interferes with droid behavior cores."

"Sounds like Visquis thought of everything." Meetra thought it over for a moment. "Worth the risk. I will go see him; be ready, just in case."

Meetra walked past the market stalls towards the docks. She felt distinctly odd without the familiar weight of a weapon on either hip, and awkward with the collapsed space suit slung on her back. Just as she was about to cross into the dockyards, Atton ran up beside her. "Hey, look, I wanted to tell you, be careful. I won't be able to contact you via the comlink if something happens, and I'm betting that squid-head knows it. I have a bad feeling about this, boss."

"I'll be careful, Atton," Meetra said.

"Look, take these-they're healing packs." He fished a pair of injector pens out of a belt pouch. "If your suit gets breached, you'll need to inject them fast if you don't want your lungs to seize up. And trust me, once the seizures start, you'll be dead."

Meetra took the pens. "Thank you. I'll be back soon."

"All right," said Atton. "Don't be too long. I'll keep an eye out here until you return." He smiled. "And I know just the place." Atton and Meetra separated; he headed for the Red Sector while she made for the docks.

* * *

 **A/N: I love all these characters. Atton's haunted search for redemption, Handmaiden's struggle to for self-worth, Visas with the optimism nearly beaten out of her... the writers on this game are amazing and I have to eat ice cream now I'm depressed.**


	20. Nar Shaddaa, part seven

**Disclaimer: I could never have come up with a character as cool as Mira.**

* * *

A wide street ran along the docks which served large-ship traffic. On one side were the docks themselves; on the other were a series of flophouses and bars serving the spacers and travelers passing through. They were cheaper than the Red Sector; everything was poorly lit and covered with a layer of grime from engine exhaust. Meetra stepped out of the tunnel from the refugee landing area and headed down the street toward the Jekk'Jekk Tarr.

"So you're the big Jedi that everyone's been talking about. You don't look so tough to me." Meetra spun to see a young red-haired woman step out of a freighter's shadow. She wore an armored jacket and pants of green-black leather over a teal shirt, tied to leave her midriff bare. She was armed with a rocket/dart launcher on her right wrist and a Mandalorian _kal_ dagger in a sheath on her belt. "I thought you Jedi were supposed to be smart, and here you are, running around Nar Shaddaa sticking your lightsaber into everyone's business." She snorted. "What, were you planning to save everyone on this moon? You're attracting more attention than a fleet of Sith warships."

Meetra thought she knew the answer, but… "Who are you?"

"I'm Mira," the young woman replied. "I'm the best bounty hunter in this system, and that's not me bragging, that's fact. I had you in my sights ever since you landed. I've been watching you run all over the Refugee Sector like a bantha, and for someone with a price on their head as high as yours, you sure don't know how to keep a low profile." She put her hands on her hips. "Look, I know that squid-head Visquis sent you a message to meet him in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. He works for Goto, and it's a trap. I'm betting he's going to lure you in there, start a fight, and then he's going to wrap you up and deliver you to Goto, dead, claiming you attacked him."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Meetra.

"Well, whatever your reasons are, the fact that you're meeting with Visquis is what I want to talk about." Mira crossed her arms. "If I know about it, that means everybody else on this moon knows about it, or will soon enough. And when that happens, the bounty hunter truce is off. That means things are going to get real ugly, real quick."

Meetra shrugged. "I've been a target ever since I've entered Republic space."

"I think your friends are the ones in trouble," Mira countered. "You must have heard of me, my reputation. I only bring people in alive. Let me get you someplace safe."

Meetra eyed the younger woman as she considered, then nodded. "Very well."

Mira led the way down a side street and turned into a boardinghouse. She headed into one of the apartments, then keyed a button on her wrist bracer. A section of wall slid open to reveal a hidden room. Mira closed the secret door behind them. "This is one of my safe houses. It's not too pretty to look at, but keeps away prying eyes."

"It certainly has its own distinctive smell." Meetra blinked; her eyes and nose stung.

"Yeah, well, it's one of those tradeoffs," Mira replied. "All the freighter exhaust from the docks, you know. Some aliens actually like breathing it, if you can believe it. You could say I've gotten used to it. This is actually perfume compared to how the rest of the docks smell."

"So, why did you bring me here?" Meetra asked.

"Visquis is greedy," said Mira. "He intends to cut the bounty hunters out of the loop and deliver you to Goto personally. Not smart from where I'm standing."

Meetra frowned. "You do understand that I actually _want_ to meet Goto, right?"

"Oh, you will," replied Mira, "just not right now. In fact, you're going to stay here until I meet with Visquis."

"That's some imagination you've got," said Meetra, smiling.

Mira smiled back. "Actually, you really don't have much choice. That smell you noticed when you came in… yeah, it's filtering through your lungs right now. Anybody without olfactory blockers like I have is going to start feeling dizzy…" Meetra collapsed to the floor, "…and eventually fall unconscious." Mira bent over Meetra and picked up the rucksack. "Good night, Jedi. Let me just take that environment suit, and I'll be back soon." The hidden door sliding shut was the last thing Meetra saw before she blacked out.

* * *

"Give me a hit of juma, and keep them coming." Atton accepted the glass and took a sip. He was in a cantina at the edge of the Red Sector, waiting for Meetra to return. The mirror behind the bar allowed him to watch the room behind him, as well as the view out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He nursed the drink, swaying a little so as to appear drunk to the inexpert eye. It would allow him to get the drop on a dumb bounty hunter, and there were many more of those than the really good ones. Atton sipped slowly, watching the mirror as more than two hours went by with no sign of Meetra. He straightened up in his seat as two women approached him-attractive Twi'leks wearing very tight black leather. One had pale white skin, the other was gray-blue. They leaned against the bar on either side of Atton, brushing up against him suggestively. Atton grinned, then cursed silently as he realized they were checking him for weapons. "So, I don't think I caught your names. Uh, do you two work here?"

"I am Seer'aa, my sister is Teer'aa," replied the white-skinned woman. "We are dancers."

"Slaves once," said Teer'aa, "now no more."

Atton nodded. "Yeah? What happened to your Master?"

"He was made deceased," replied the white Twi'lek. "We serve no one but ourselves."

"And you, of course," the gray Twi'lek added, laying a hand on his thigh. "Tell us, why have you come to the smuggler's moon?"

"Perhaps you are looking for something… perhaps us?" Seer'aa smiled invitingly.

"No, I'm here protecting someone," said Atton. "Keeping her out of trouble, by acting as a distraction for people looking to harm her." He laid a hand on the pommel of the sword Meetra had given him, slapping away Teer'aa's hand.

"Harm him?" Seer'aa's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ah, you think we are assassins, yes?"

"We are not assassins," said the gray Twi'lek. "Assassins kill for money. That is not what we do."

Both of the Twi'leks stood up. "We only wish the exile," said Seer'aa. "Submit, or else we shall kill you and find other bait."

"Why don't you two schuttas try it, and we'll see what happens?" Atton lashed out with both feet, knocking barstools into the hunters' legs. They fell awkwardly, giving Atton time to stand and draw his sword.

The Twin Suns got to their feet; each drew a pair of spinning-blade short swords. "If that is what you wish, then we shall end you," Seer'aa snapped. She glanced at her sister. "It has been too long since we have killed." The bounty hunters backflipped to place themselves between Atton and the door, then began moving in.

Atton angled his blade and waited. He wasn't as skilled with Battle Precognition as Handmaiden or Meetra, but he could at least tell which Twi'lek would attack first. Teer'aa raised her blades. Atton turned to face her, then kicked to the side, catching Seer'aa in the stomach as she went for his blind side. The white-skinned Twi'lek groaned and Teer'aa ran in furiously. Atton parried Teer'aa's strike and had to duck to keep his head as Seer'aa attacked from behind. The Twin Suns began a well-coordinated offense, slashing and stabbing at Atton. The attacks seemed to come from everywhere, and Atton couldn't block them all. He snarled as Seer'aa connected with a cut to his side. She smiled viciously and attacked again. Atton blocked again, circling to keep both Twi'leks where he could see them.

Teer'aa went for Atton's throat and he barely dodged in time; the blade still left a deep wound in his left shoulder. Atton kicked a table at her, but Teer'aa flipped over it and attacked again. He spun aside and tried to run for the door, but Seer'aa cut him off. Atton backpedaled and bumped into the bar; both Twi'leks closed in for the kill. He grabbed his glass of juma and threw it into Teer'aa's face. The Twi'lek stumbled backward, rubbing the stinging liquid out of her eyes. Atton didn't give her a chance to recover. He ran past Teer'aa, grabbed the tips of her lekku, and squeezed hard. Teer'aa cried out and Atton swung her around, slamming her head into the bar. Teer'aa hit the floor, out cold. Seer'aa screamed with fury and came at Atton, slashing wildly. He parried and went on the offensive. One-on-one, Seer'aa was at a distinct disadvantage against Atton's Echani training. She caught his sword on crossed blades and twisted, but Atton spun around and knocked her senseless with an elbow to the head.

"Well, that's it," Atton grunted. "The bounty hunter truce is off." He sheathed his sword and began applying a medpac to his shoulder. _This place is going to get real bad, real fast. I better get back to the ship, warn the others._ He finished treating his wounds and left the bar at a run.

* * *

The crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ was waiting tensely when Atton strode into the main hold. "Hey, we need to move out."

Handmaiden frowned. "What are you talking about? What is wrong?"

"The truce between the bounty hunters on Nar Shaddaa is off," Atton replied. "There's going to be war. A trap in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr is bad enough, but having a hundred bounty hunters on your back is something else."

Bao-Dur grabbed his pike and rifle and headed for the ramp; Atton and Handmaiden followed. Kreia caught up to them as they stepped out onto the pad. "She was told to meet alone. We cannot disrupt their meeting until the alien reveals the information he has."

Atton shook his head. "You don't understand. They're coming after _us_ , not Meetra."

Handmaiden's head snapped around. "If they are coming after us, then they will be after her as well. We need to go rescue her."

"I'm guessing we're in a lot more trouble than she is," Atton said, pointing. Several Duros were walking down the street, carrying rifles and carbines.

"Ah… look. Refugees. Here. On the landing pad. Are you lost?" The Duros leader balanced his rifle on one shoulder and rubbed his chin with his free hand. "Or perhaps you have lost your criminal Jedi exile leader; perhaps that is more likely, yes, very. I am Azanti Zhug, leader of Zhugs, very powerful, very skilled hunters. It would be very smart of you to tell me where the criminal Jedi has gone. And do speak very quick, my patience is very low."

Atton raised his eyebrows. "Anybody here catch that? All I understood was 'very.'"

"I think he wanted us to give up the General to his poorly-trained collection of bounty hunters," the Zabrak replied.

"Ah, well that would explain it," said Atton. He jerked his head at the Duros. "Which one do you want?"

Bao-Dur unslung his rifle. "I'll take the stupid one who decided to threaten us rather than shoot us when he had the chance." He leveled his weapon and blasted Azanti right in the chest.

The bolt didn't penetrate the Duros' armor; Azanti laughed and fired back, as did the rest of the hunters. Atton and Bao-Dur dove behind the landing gear and fired back. Kreia staggered the Duros with a push, then she and Handmaiden ran in to take them on. Three of the Zhugs drew batons and vibroblades; Handmaiden took them all on and laid them out in less than two minutes. Atton dropped another with a headshot, and Kreia killed two more. Azanti and his last 'brother' rushed Bao-Dur. The Zabrak killed the thug, but Azanti bowled him over with a grenade. Bao-Dur stood up and blocked Azanti's vibroblade with his arm, then grabbed him by the throat and simply threw him off the platform. The surviving Duros fled.

"Frakk." Atton turned to the others. "If the Zhugs knew we docked here, all the other hunters do too. We need to get Meetra and get out of here until things cool off. Now let's move, before any more trouble arrives."

"I think more already has." Bao-Dur pointed to the edge of the pad, at the lone figure walking towards them.

* * *

Mira sealed the space suit's helmet and cycled the airlock at the entrance to the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. The inner door opened, and she stepped into the dimly lit room. Different species preferred different conditions, so the club had four main rooms, each with a different environment. The first was hot and dry, with lighting to please those from desert worlds. The next room was set up for methane-breathers and occupied by dozens of Gand. The suit kept Mira anonymous, allowing her to walk among the various thugs without attracting attention. Visquis was in a back room, waiting for the exile to arrive to spring his trap. Mira approached the door and buzzed; it opened immediately. Visquis stood in the center of his well-appointed private lounge. Standing around the walls were several scantily-clad Twi'lek women, probably slaves. Just behind Visquis- _osik!_ -stood Hanharr. Mira sighed-she had intended to impersonate General Surik, as Visquis had no idea what the exile looked like. But Hanharr would know her immediately; she would have to improvise.

Visquis spread his arms. "Ah, you have arrived. Please, come in and remove that cumbersome suit, the air in here is quite suitable for your kind." He twitched his tentacles-the Quarren equivalent of a smile. "Do not be taken aback by my hospitality. I assure you, no one will harm you as long as you are my guest and we keep things cordial between us."

Mira took off her helmet; Hanharr roared and bared his teeth. "You!"

"Good eyes, Hanharr." Mira grinned as she removed the rest of the space suit. "No wonder you're still number two on Nar Shaddaa."

The big Wookiee reached for his swords, but Visquis held out a hand to stop him. "Restrain yourself, Hanharr. There is no need for violence. I gather from your conversation that this is not the Jedi I invited here. It is difficult for me to tell, you humans all look so alike to me." He eyed Mira. "Perhaps you would care to explain, to what I owe the honor of this visit? And where I might find the Jedi?"

"Yeah," Mira shot back, "and maybe you'd like to explain why you've decided to backstab Goto and claim the Jedi for yourself."

Visquis laughed, an unpleasant rattling noise. "Ah, what a prime example of human arrogance. What you know is substantially less than what I know. Otherwise, you would not have come here." He began counting on his clawed fingers. "One, everything that goes on in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr is invisible to Goto. It is something I discovered by accident, and have tested many times since to insure accuracy. Second, I am not acting on Goto's orders-not anymore. Hanharr and I reached an agreement to deal with Goto altogether, and collect a tidy sum from Vogga."

Mira's jaw dropped. "You've signed on with Vogga the Hutt? Visquis, you're dumber than I thought. There's no way Goto won't find out."

"He might, it is possible. But it is a risk I am willing to take." Visquis clicked his fangs. "You see, Vogga is very tired of having his freighters hijacked by Goto-it is causing his word to have less weight on Nal Hutta. There is a leak in his operations here on Nar Shaddaa. Rather than simply find the leak and eliminate it, his anger has compelled him to eliminate the source of the irritation altogether. Unfortunately, Goto is very careful about showing himself to others-Vogga's employee, Hanharr, discovered this when he attended a gathering on Goto's yacht. It is always holograms with Goto-always. But I have a suspicion that Goto will reveal himself to a Jedi. When that happens, that is when I intend to strike." The Quarren crossed his arms. "Unfortunately, it is clear he will not reveal himself to a two-credit bounty hunter with the audacity to try and strike a deal with me. So please-tell me where the Jedi is. I am not in the mood for negotiation."

"Yeah, right," Mira snapped. "I'm not telling you where the Jedi is-it's my bounty, and that means she's under my protection."

"How predictable," Visquis sighed. "Very well." The floor plates beneath Mira suddenly electrified, and she collapsed, unconscious.

* * *

The first thing Meetra saw upon waking was a pair of legs. At least, she thought it was a pair of legs-the world was very blurry, and her head hurt. She could hear just fine, though.

"I know you can hear me," said Master Zez-Kai Ell. "The numbness you feel should be wearing off soon, but not before we've spoken." He leaned against the wall. "When I first heard you were on Nar Shaddaa, I didn't quite believe it. I didn't think anyone could track me here, but I see I underestimated you. I have watched you as you have traveled the Refugee Sector. I've seen what you have done… what I refused to do. Even exiled, you are more of a Jedi than I. If anything, know that your actions have convinced me I can stand by and watch no longer while the Exchange closes its grip on this sector." Zez-Kai stood straight. "I know a young woman went to meet with Visquis in your place. He will not negotiate with her-he will kill her. I intend to rescue her. I will return shortly… or not at all. If you have come to this moon for answers-or for revenge-then you will follow me. For if I fail, then you will be denied both." He turned and walked out of the hidden room.

It was another five minutes or so before Meetra could stand. There was no time to return to the _Hawk_ and retrieve her equipment. The space suit was gone, but the rucksack was sitting on the floor, and the breath mask was inside. _It's my only option._ Meetra took the mask and headed for the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. She stepped into the airlock, the outer door closed, and the fumes began to fill the chamber. Meetra's eyes went wide as she realized her mistake. The mask was keeping out any poisons, but the dense gases were displacing the oxygen-it was already becoming hard to breathe. The lock finished cycling, but the inner doors didn't open: Visquis was letting her become hypoxic before capture. Meetra began trying to force the doors, weakening quickly as she had gone more than two minutes without getting a breath. Her head swam; it was getting dark. Meetra fell to the floor, struggling with the outer door.

 _Listen to me-clear your thoughts._ Kreia's voice broke through Meetra's mental fog.

 _Can't breathe,_ Meetra thought, _trying to stay conscious_.

 _Still your breathing,_ Kreia replied, _let the trace amounts of air in your lungs hold you. The Force can sustain you… listen to it. Let it keep you alive until you can reach safety._

Meetra concentrated, drawing on the Force. She felt the desperate need to breathe lessening. Slowly, her vision cleared, and she found herself able to stand. _I am all right now. This is amazing…_

 _It is an old technique,_ Kreia explained, _similar to the healing trance-some Jedi can hold their breath for hours, even days. Without practice, however, you do not have that long. Move quickly._

The airlock was still sealed, but not for long. Meetra raised her hands and gripped the doors with the Force. The locking pins snapped, and the doors slid open. Meetra stepped through into the front room of the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. She received several hostile stares from the patrons, but no one made a move. Then, Visquis' voice came over the loudspeakers. "This human is the Jedi Goto wants. Bring her down, then bring her to me."

There was a mass scraping sound as dozens of thugs, smugglers, and mercenaries stood up and pulled weapons. Meetra rolled her eyes and dropped into a fighting crouch. The crowd of thugs rushed her. Meetra scattered the crowd with a Force wave, and then the fight was on. She dodged blaster fire, swords, even a Weequay with a broken bottle. Someone grabbed her from behind; Meetra threw him over her shoulder. The thug landed on a plasteel table and smashed it into pieces. Meetra grabbed a table leg, hit the thug to knock him out, and kept moving. She fought with every trick she knew, cracking ribs, knees and heads with her improvised club. After a minute or two, the less committed thugs had run off, but there were still several in the fight. She felt a heavy footstep behind her and whirled to find herself facing a huge Gamorrean. He lifted his axe for a powerful swing. Meetra knew better than to try blocking it, so she jumped over the bar as the huge blade came around, smashing glasses and bottles left and right. Two thugs piled on before she could get up, resulting in a desperate, chaotic ground fight. In all the confusion, Meetra was able to get hold of a vibroblade from one of the thugs. She finished one with a slash, kicked the other off, and got back to her feet just in time to face the Gamorrean again. He swung vertically this time, so Meetra sidestepped and stabbed him through the throat. Suddenly, the room was empty-everyone had either been killed or run away.

Meetra took a moment to look around, and found a second vibroblade. She cycled the airlock to the next room and stopped short. More than fifty Gand were waiting, weapons already out. Meetra groaned inwardly, then launched herself forward, bowling over the short aliens. They attacked with blasters and shock-staves, and Meetra quickly had her hands full. There seemed to be no end to them. _I've got to get through to Visquis' lounge, and quickly. I don't know how much longer I can hold my breath… breath!_ Meetra turned and struck the airlock doors with a powerful push; both sets of doors were blasted off their tracks. The gas mixture from the front room rushed in, and the less dense ammonia rose up toward the ceiling. The Gand cried out in alarm, pulling emergency masks on. They couldn't fight with only a minute or two of air and were forced to run for the front door. Meetra moved through the room and opened the airlock to the private lounge.

As soon as the inner door opened, Meetra took a deep, grateful breath. There was no sign of Visquis, only three Twi'lek women wearing tight leather and headdresses which marked them as slaves. The one in the center held her hands out pleadingly. "Please, I beg you, do not harm us!"

"Calm down." Meetra lowered her weapons. "I mean you no harm. Where is Visquis?"

"We wish no more trouble," the slave said quickly. "There is a route at the back of this spa-you will find what you are seeking there. Our master, his private chambers are beneath the Jekk'Jekk Tarr."

Meetra crossed her arms. "I'm looking for a red-haired girl, leather, lots of attitude."

The slave nodded sadly. "Yes, she came here. She did not know of all the traps that Visquis has in this chamber, and she was caught by surprise. He took her down to his chambers; I do not know if she still lives."

Meetra sensed that she wasn't being told everything; she raised an eyebrow. "Anything else I should know about Visquis' private chambers? Traps? Defenses?"

The Twi'lek slave hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "There is a maze of tunnels that lead to his chamber-old ventilation ducts connected to the docks. They are filled with toxins, with gas lethal to humans. I do not know the way, and even if you made it through, he has an entire clan of bodyguards, Ubese, that serve him. He and his guards are expecting you. I think they have been setting this trap for a long time."

"Get to safety," said Meetra, "I'll handle your master." The Twi'leks bowed and left the room. She walked to the back corner of the room, took a few deep breaths, and entered the tunnels to Visquis' hidden chambers.

The ventilation system tunnels were dimly lit, with metal grating floors. There was a door to Meetra's front, and one in each side wall. She chose the center door and cautiously walked through into a room which looked just like the one she had come from. Meetra continued forward and found a third identical room. She turned left-the room looked the same again. Meetra frowned and turned back, and was blown off her feet. The concussion mine caused no injury, but spun her around and left her ears ringing. Meetra got to her feet and groaned. She was in a maze of little rooms, all alike. There was no longer any way to tell where she had come from, or how many of the rooms there were. Time was running out-she couldn't hold her breath forever.

Meetra ran through a calming exercise. She sat down on the floor and closed her eyes, listening for other beings as she had on the _Hawk_. The people in the docks were too numerous to differentiate, but she could feel a small group of people down below the rest. Meetra smiled and began making her way through the vents toward Visquis' hideout. She found the entrance, and activated the door control. There was a snapping sound; both the hideout door and the door back to the vents locked and magnetically sealed. Meetra was trapped.

* * *

 **A/N: I love writing bar fights. There's something about the chaos, the variety of weapons... and the action cliches.**


	21. Nar Shaddaa, part eight

**Disclaimer: All glory to the Lucasfilm Story Group-the _real_ Jedi Council.**

* * *

Mira came back to consciousness slowly. First came the feeling of cold from the metal floor beneath her. Second, the smell-a disgusting mix of animal pen, garbage, and blood. Next came sight; she looked around and her heart sank. Mira was in a fighting pit, surrounded by bones and old corpses. She still had her armored jacket, and her wrist launcher and dagger were in their proper places. Clearly, Visquis meant her death to be a spectacle.

"Ah, Mira." Visquis was looking down from a glassed-in viewing area on the rim of the pit. "I am pleased that my traps did not cause any permanent scarring." He angled his head mockingly. "It turns out your Jedi friend has decided to come here anyway, in search of you. How touching. It will not be long before the Jedi lies unconscious in the tunnels, and I will send the Ubese to hunt it down. But in the meantime, as boss of this sector, I must pronounce judgments on those who have crossed me-and reward those who serve me." Hanharr entered the pit through a small door below Visquis' viewing stand. "Mira, I believe that you know this one-as he knows you. Hanharr, I have heard tales of how you have ripped humans in half. Indulge me. I have left her armed-I do not want her to die too quickly."

The big Wookiee drew a pair of full-size vibroswords and smiled like the predator he was. "Here, we are far from the eyes of other bounty hunters. Now, my debt will be ended."

"That does it, Hanharr!" Mira drew her dagger left-handed and got into a fighting stance. "I don't want to kill you, but I will if you don't get out of my way!"

"Your threats mean nothing to me," Hanharr snarled. "You do not have the strength to kill, little girl. There is no one coming to save you. Your Jeedai friend is trapped in the tunnels of this place, and soon, dead. If you want your bounty, then go rescue your Jeedai-but first, you must go through _me_."

"Have it your way, Hanharr. We both know I'm the better hunter." Mira spoke with the icy calm of someone with nothing to lose. Inwardly, her mind raced. Mira's launcher was loaded with tranquilizer darts; the whole magazine wouldn't bring Hanharr down. Her dagger was the only real option she had, but with a quarter-meter blade, she'd have to get _very_ close. Hanharr was a beast, more than triple her weight and immensely strong. If he managed to grab her, it was over.

Hanharr roared and raised his swords, closing the distance with long strides. Mira backflipped and circled, darting in for a try at the brute's ribcage. Hanharr blocked with a sweep of one sword, then slashed downward with the other. Mira brought her right arm up, deflecting the blade with her missile launch rail. She sliced diagonally, cutting Hanharr across the shin. It wasn't a serious wound, but it was first blood. Hanharr snarled and tried for Mira's head. It was a wild swing and she ducked it easily. He connected with a kick to the gut; Mira hit the ground and slid several meters. Hanharr ran after her and stabbed down with both swords. She rolled just in time to keep from being skewered and kicked the Wookiee right in the teeth. He howled with rage and hacked at her wildly. Mira avoided his strikes easily, but she couldn't keep this up forever. Hanharr had much more endurance; the longer the fight lasted, the more he would gain the advantage. Mira had to somehow seize the initiative and cripple or kill Hanharr before she tired.

Mira glanced around the pit. She'd been dodging and weaving to stay clear of Hanharr, but she was getting dangerously close to the wall. Hanharr was moving in, ready for another attack. He chopped with one sword, then lunged, trying to stab Mira as she sidestepped. She planted one foot to change direction and flipped her dagger to reverse grip, then struck. Hanharr let out a bellow of pain as Mira stabbed completely through his left forearm. She ripped the blade out, forcing Hanharr to drop his sword. The Wookiee flailed around with his other blade, but Mira ducked it and scooped up the fallen vibrosword. She sheathed her _kal_ and took a two-handed grip on the larger weapon.

Hanharr examined his wound; the dagger had gone between the bones of his arm and no tendons were severed. He was in a lot of pain, but his hand was still working. The big Wookiee raised his sword, his red eyes almost glowing. "Do you think that you can win, now that you have a sword?" Hanharr held out his injured arm; blood dripped from the tips of his fingers. "This is nothing, female. I will tear off your limbs, rend your flesh, and shatter your bones. My face will be the last thing you ever see." Mira could almost _feel_ the rage coming off him. She swallowed nervously; Hanharr was at his most dangerous when he unleashed his fury. He became a veritable berserker, ignoring pain and injury and not stopping until he had destroyed anything in his way.

Mira angled her blade and braced herself. Hanharr roared and slashed diagonally for her left shoulder. She deflected the strike and countered low, going for the knees. Hanharr backed up and tried for a straight stab. Mira spun aside and sliced at Hanharr's shoulder. He swatted her blade away one-handed and punched her in the face. Mira spat blood from a cut lip and attacked again. She managed a shallow cut to Hanharr's ribs; this only enraged the Wookiee further. He threw all his strength into a high swing, trying to take her head off. Mira tried to deflect the strike and gasped in shock as her blade snapped in two. She backpedaled to keep from being cut in two-and backed right into the wall. Hanharr began to laugh insanely; it was a high-pitched, terrifying sound which chilled Mira to the bone. He threw the second sword over his shoulder and across the pit, then bared his fangs and extended his razor-sharp claws. Mira flattened herself against the wall, shaking in terror. Hanharr stared down into her eyes. "Now, you _die_."

As Hanharr brought his arms down to tear her apart, Mira dove and rolled between his legs. She came up behind him, dagger in hand. Mira stabbed him in the lower back, aiming for the kidneys. He howled as she pulled the blade out and stabbed again. Despite the pain, Hanharr managed to spin around and swipe at her with his claws. Mira dodged and kept on stabbing, now reaching high for his heart and lungs. She struck over and over until the Wookiee fell at her feet. Mira spat. "I told you to get out of my way, Hanharr." She turned and glared up at Visquis.

"That was… unexpected." The Quarren twitched his tentacles. "Still, I have the Jedi. And now I have no need to pay Hanharr for his services. I have other entertainments for you, I think. I am going to check on the Jedi; I will leave you here, with the payment I intended for Hanharr." He gestured to a henchman and walked away from the window.

Mira turned sharply at a metallic sound behind her. A massive door at the edge of the pit slid open to reveal a half-dozen kath hounds. They stepped into the arena, spreading out to surround her. Mira smiled-kath hounds were smaller and weaker than Hanharr. She extended her right arm and began shooting on the run. The dart launcher made a faint snapping sound as each dart left the barrel; Mira got four hounds with darts and managed to reach Hanharr's second vibrosword before they were on her. Two quick slashes, and the last two fell. She tucked the sword into her belt and took a quick look around. The door Hanharr had come through was shut and locked, but the door the hounds had come through was open. _Those kath hounds were well cared-for. They must have a keeper, someone to tend to their injuries. If someone comes in here, they'll have an emergency release for the door, just in case._

A short search later, and she had it. There was a small panel inside the kath hounds' den. Mira unscrewed the pommel cap of her dagger to reveal a set of security spikes inside the hollow handle. She paused for a moment to take stock. She had three darts left, not enough to take on Visquis' clan of Ubese guards. _My nasal filters will let me breathe in the tunnels, but Visquis and most of his men are heading that way to get Surik. I'll never be able to fight my way through. Surik can probably take them, but she's trapped in the tunnels. I need to let the Jedi in, then escape and meet her again later. Visquis will have a back way out of this base-I need to find it._

Mira opened the exit door, only to find an Ubese in the hallway. He drew a double-bladed sword and attacked; Mira blocked with her vibrosword and swept his legs. She finished him with a downward stab and headed out. The base was a little bigger than the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, with living quarters and workspaces for the bodyguard force. There were plenty of corners and alcoves for Mira to hide in, and the two guards who noticed her fell to tranquilizer darts before they could sound the alarm. Mira eventually found Visquis' own suite-the luxurious furnishings were in stark contrast to the guards' no-frills bunkrooms. Mira closed the outer door, then began looking for a secret exit. It wasn't very well hidden, a sliding door disguised as a wall panel. Behind it was a small room with a console showing surveillance of the base and tunnels. Mira slid one of her spikes into an input port and got to work.

* * *

Meetra looked up at an unexpected metallic sound. The door to Visquis' stronghold unlocked and slid open. She frowned suspiciously and walked in, blades out. The door closed behind her and Meetra let out the breath she had been holding, taking several deep breaths before heading further in. She turned the first corner and found herself face-to-face with a pair of masked warriors all in black, carrying double-blades. Meetra adopted a nonthreatening stance. "Take me to Visquis."

The Ubese raised their weapons and advanced on her. Meetra got past their longer reach with high-speed strikes, dropping both and moving on. She felt a large cluster of lives and headed for it, assuming that would be Visquis and his bodyguards. More Ubese tried to stop her, but Meetra carved a path right through them. Eventually, she followed a ramp down to an arena. Visquis was standing in the center, with six Ubese behind him. He waved his bodyguards to stand down. "You have finally arrived, both much sooner, and much later, than I'd hoped."

"I'm not looking for trouble-I was looking for a civilized discussion." Meetra set her blades on the floor, but did not kick them away. The meaning was clear enough.

"I will not be the one violating etiquette-see you do not do the same," said Visquis. "Based on your actions alone, I take it you are not familiar with the organization I serve, or my responsibilities." He tapped himself on the chest. "I run the Refugee Sector. I decide what happens here, I control the flows and currents of this sector. You have caused a great deal of trouble for the Exchange here on Nar Shaddaa, and I wish to know why."

Meetra shrugged. "I'm not one to stand idly by when I see people suffering. Also, you put a bounty on my head."

"So you are the exile mentioned in the coreward database." Visquis scratched one point of his triangular head. "It seems my squeezing of the Refugee Sector has yielded success, after all. It is curious, though. We have been applying pressure on the humans in this sector for some time, yet only now do you show yourself."

"I only just arrived on Nar Shaddaa," Meetra replied. "I couldn't have helped these people any faster."

Visquis nodded. "Ah, the Jedi have always been slow to act when danger threatens, more so now than in the past, and you are no different. Still, if you are only a recent arrival, that would lend some validity to the rumors of other Jedi being here on Nar Shaddaa." He crossed his arms. "Fortunately for me, I require just the one."

Meetra put her hands on her hips. "So, why don't you tell me what this bounty is all about?"

Visquis spread his hands. "In truth, I do not know, but your price is so high that any bounty hunter who captures you would be able to buy their own planet. You must have angered Goto greatly for him to hunt you so. And that is why you are the perfect bait… and why I will bring you to Goto, then kill him."

Vents opened in the floor of the pit, flooding the area around Meetra with gas. She merely smiled, pulled the vibroblades to her, and whirled them into an attack stance. Visquis took a step back. "The gas, it isn't…" He clapped his hands twice, loudly. "I order you all-attack the Jedi!"

None of the Ubese moved a muscle; Visquis frowned. "All of you-attack the Jedi _now!_ What is wrong with..." He trailed off as he suddenly understood. "You all… you never truly worked for me."

The Ubese leader pulled a small holoprojector from his pocket and activated it. A middle-aged, bearded human appeared, with a disturbingly mild expression on his face. "While the Jedi remains on Nar Shaddaa, my eyes shall watch her."

Visquis knelt and groveled at the hologram's feet. "Goto, I didn't, I wasn't…" He looked up fearfully; Goto said nothing. "Please, take the Jedi. I offer the human as a gift, freely, as I would my own li…" The Ubese struck, and the Quarren's head flew across the room as his body fell to the ground.

Goto steepled his fingers and smiled thinly. "What an amusing Jedi specimen you are." Several shock arms sprang up from concealed mountings in the floor and struck Meetra with electricity; she spasmed and fell senseless.

"Great." Mira bit her lip as she watched the Ubese assassins pick up the Jedi and carry her away. _I need to get out of here._ She switched off the camera feed and opened the escape hatch, only to find Master Zez-Kai Ell in the tunnel on the other side. Mira shook her head slowly. "Your friend has been captured by Goto."

"I see." Zez-Kai nodded calmly. "Then you'd better move quickly."

* * *

 _This is insane!_ Mira was arguing with herself on the walk to the exile's ship, and losing. _They're more likely to just blast me than listen._ Mira set her jaw. _I took a job, and I don't walk away from my jobs_. She heard a fight and sped up. A couple of Duros sprinted by, running hard away from the fracas. _Those are Zhugs-they must have tried to take Surik's friends. They may need help._ She peered out from a dark corner and saw the fight was already over.

Two of the Jedi's companions were discussing the situation. "If the Zhugs knew we docked here, all the other hunters do too," said a wiry human. "We need to get Meetra and get out of here until things cool off. Now let's move, before any more trouble arrives."

The big Zabrak frowned. "I think more already has." He pointed to Mira, who walked up slowly, hands in the open.

"You're running a little late," she said wryly, "your friend already walked into a trap in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. We took out Visquis, but Goto has her, which means no bounty for me."

Bao-Dur took a menacing step forward, leveling his disruptor rifle. "So you're another hunter. Why shouldn't I just blast you where you stand?"

Mira rolled her eyes. "Think for a minute. Goto _has_ the Jedi already. The bounty is canceled, and the rest of you together aren't worth two credits; I've got nothing to gain lying to you. Now, I was hired-by who, I can't tell you-to _protect_ Surik. I met Surik on the way to Visquis and got her to one of my safehouses, but Visquis grabbed me, and Goto got her when she came after me."

Atton pursed his lips. "Kreia?"

The old woman nodded. "She is telling the truth. She means to join us in a rescue."

Handmaiden nodded, satisfied. "You have a plan, then?"

"There's no way to get her back," Mira said, shaking her head. "No one knows how to reach Goto except Visquis, and that squid-head died in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. Goto's yacht has a cloaking device. He's the one that arranges the meetings on his ship, and until then, he can't be found. If you go hunting for Goto's yacht, your freighter would be flying blind…" Mira paused, thinking, "…well, unless it was one of Vogga the Hutt's cargo ships, then it would be snapped up by Goto pretty quick. Goto's been preying on Vogga's freighters for a while now; it's the reason Vogga's had to haul his bulk up here from Nal Hutta. Even with all the traffic around Nar Shaddaa, Goto seems to always know which ones are Vogga's, and his ship just snaps them up."

Atton frowned. "How could Goto possibly pick Vogga's freighters out of the mass of traffic?"

Mira shrugged. "Probably does it by tracking their transponder codes, but no one knows how he's getting them."

"So if we got one of Vogga's transponder codes, then Goto's ship might come to us?" Bao-Dur asked.

"I guess," Mira replied. "Problem is, Vogga's thrown all organics out of his warehouse until he can find out who's been leaking the codes. You'd have to be a droid to get in there."

Atton smiled. "I have a plan. First, we'll need to trap a rat."

* * *

Two diminutive figures approached the entrance to Vogga the Hutt's warehouse. A GE3 droid manned the front desk. "Hello, sir. What is your business here?"

"I have a new droid for Vogga," whistled the Chadra-Fan standing next to T3, "2000 credits."

The receptionist droid began typing. "Before I accept this, I must ask how you acquired this particular droid."

"I am Champ," replied the small alien. "I win it in pazaak match."

"I see," said the protocol droid evenly. "There should be no problems then. Credits will be transferred to your account as usual."

The Champ nodded. "Good." He turned to leave, and headed a few blocks down the street before turning down an alley where two people stood waiting. "He inside. How I do?"

"Just fine," said Atton, "The credits are yours, as promised." He smirked. "Your part is done, 'Champ.' You can go."

Mira nodded. "The rest is up to the astromech."

T3 watched the Champ leave, then warbled a question to the receptionist. "Let's get you to work," the protocol droid said briskly, "Report to C7-E3 for assignment."

T3 acknowledged the order and rolled into the warehouse. C7-E3 was another GE3 droid, responsible for coordinating the warehouse operations. He assigned T3 to maintenance. T3 spent the next several hours moving around the warehouse, performing spot maintenance on the large loader droids and cargo floaters while surreptitiously searching the building. The warehouse was large, but after a couple of hours, T3 found it. One of the cargo containers was shielded from scans, and the lock had a totally different encryption than the other systems in the building. The coding was different, not difficult; T3 had the lock open in less than three seconds. Inside was a communications relay being repaired by a humanoid droid. The commo droid twittered in binary, demanding to know T3's purpose. The astromech extended his shock arm and dropped the commo droid where he stood, then accessed the console. This was it-the relay was sending Vogga's transponder frequencies and launch codes to a remote computer system via encrypted tightbeam. T3 downloaded the information and headed for the door.

He was approaching C7-E3's station when the manager droid was blown to bits by blaster fire. Three HK-50s marched into the warehouse, rifles at their sides. "Confident statement: You have the list of Vogga's launch codes. You will give these to us _now_ , or else we will be forced to take drastic action."

T3 twittered an excited response; the HK leader cut him off. "Warning: Do not waste our time with your pathetic attempts at deception. You ARE the droid we're looking for."

The astromech chirped; the HKs swiveled their heads, checking for additional threats. "Surprised statement: You are foolish to think we will allow you to take that information back to your master. Amused query: I think you will find the odds are somewhat in our favor. Now, will you be giving us the codes, or not?"

T3 let out a shrill twitter, followed by a low warning tone. The assassin droids brought up their rifles. "Incredulous statement: Then we will have to take them from you, which I assure you, was our preference to begin with." All three HKs raised shields and opened fire.

T3 powered on his shield and fired at the center HK. He damaged its left-side hydraulics and the droid crashed to the ground. The astromech swiveled his dome to fire on another HK, doing damage. The two standing droids started getting hits in, so T3 rolled away, giving them a moving target. The downed droid tried to stand, but he had an arm and a leg out of commission. It fired one-handed from the ground, but missed. T3 swung around and finished the HK off with his Tystels. The remaining two droids closed in. T3 struck one with his ion beam, disabling it temporarily. He fired on the other, adding to his previous damage and bringing its shields down. The ion beam had worn off; the second droid took the fallen HK's weapon and began firing a rifle in each hand. T3's shields were almost out, but he kept fighting, striking his target with blaster fire and bolts from his shock arm. The barrage chewed through the HK's armor and detonated its power cell, sending wreckage everywhere.

The astromech turned to face the last assassin just as his shields fell. Several more hits knocked T3's weapons system out. He accelerated straight at the HK, smashing into his legs and dropping him to the floor. T3 extended his repair arms and carved into the HK with his fusion cutter and sonic drill, slicing through control cables and circuitry. The droid slowly went still, yellow eyes dimming to black. T3 took a moment to extricate himself from the destroyed HK, then began expertly disassembling the droids. In a few minutes, he had a sizeable pile of parts loaded onto a cargo floater. T3 let out a satisfied toot and rolled out of the warehouse.

* * *

The _Ebon Hawk_ was quiet while the crew waited for T3 to return. Mira had gone to one of her safehouses for supplies, and Bao-Dur was prepping the transponder to accept the new codes. Kreia was meditating on the floor of the port dormitory; she raised her head at a small sound. "Why are you here?"

"Because I told her," Atton said quietly, "I told her everything."

"Ah." Kreia stood and turned to face him. "And now you are free?"

Atton shook his head. "No. If I were free, I could just leave. I'm staying, until Meetra's job is done. But I take orders from her, not from you."

Kreia smiled. "Did you ever think I truly held you? You are more of a fool than I thought. What truly held you was _you_ -and let me show you why. I once held the galaxy by the throat, as you once held her by the throat, and let her die slowly. And your emotion at that point is what you fear. I can unlock that part of you anytime I wish. It is a simple thing, the human mind, once it feels something strongly, it becomes etched in the memory, the subconscious." She raised her head, her blind eyes boring into his. "Shall I show you? That part of you that hungered to kill Jedi, that took pleasure from it? Or perhaps you will continue to listen to my counsel and I shall ignore your pathetic attempts at freedom." Kreia turned her back to Atton and knelt down again. "Now leave me, murderer. I have nothing further to say to one such as you."

An hour passed, and Mira returned, wearing a bandolier of ammunition for her wrist launcher. Instead of tranquilizers, she had brought armor-piercing alloy darts, as well as rockets for heavy work. A few hours later, T3 rolled up the ramp, covered in carbon scoring. He trilled at Bao-Dur, who smiled. "He's got the codes! I need to update the transponder, and then we're ready to go."

T3 beeped sadly. The Zabrak examined him more closely and sighed. "His weapons are out, and I don't have time to repair him."

"Damn." Atton made a face. "That leaves five of us, against a ship that boards large freighters." He was quiet for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder and turned back to the others with a meaningful look.

Handmaiden's eyes widened. "You can't be serious, Atton. It's one thing not to kill her, but we can't possibly expect her to help us. She attacked us, she tried to take the exile! How can we possibly trust her?"

"We don't have to trust Visas." Bao-Dur leaned against the bulkhead. "We _do_ have to trust the General's judgment, and she was prepared to allow Visas to join us. If she wants to help, let her prove it."

Handmaiden slammed her fist on the holodisplay. "She's a _Sith assassin_!"

Atton took her hand and looked into her eyes. "So was I."

Handmaiden's mouth opened in shock and she was silent for more than a minute. Atton didn't let go of her hand, didn't break eye contact. She pressed her lips together, then nodded. She stood from the table. "Let's speak with her."

Visas stood up from her bed when the crew entered the cargo hold. "Good day. Is there something you wish of me?"

Bao-Dur nodded. "The General has been captured by Goto and the Exchange. We are about to mount a rescue attempt, but we're outnumbered."

"The boss thought you might be saved," Atton said. "We'd like you to come with us."

Visas bowed. "I am grateful for this chance. I will help in any way I'm able."

"One more thing." Handmaiden stepped up to Visas, leaned in close. "If you betray us… I don't really have to say it, do I?"

Visas shook her head. "No, you do not. I have been shown mercy once; I know not to expect it again." She paused. "The exile destroyed my lightsaber when she defeated me. My only weapon is a shock baton."

"Not a problem," said Mira. She handed over the sword she had taken from Hanharr.

"All right, then," Bao-Dur said. "Atton, get us into orbit. Goto's got the General, and we're going to get her back."

The _Ebon Hawk_ climbed out of the Refugee Sector, angling for a nav buoy a thousand kilometers above Nar Shaddaa's northern hemisphere. Their transponder was squawking the code stolen from Vogga's warehouse, and Atton had filed a flight plan which fit a smuggling run. He made his turn at the marker and began the long flight to the edge of Nal Hutta's gravity well. Ten hours after liftoff, the ship shook, then slowed to a halt. Atton keyed the intercom. "We're caught in a tractor beam. This is it; Goto is making his move!"

A frigate-sized ship decloaked in front of them. It was silver, with a long main hull and a forward-swept crescent wing. The ship was armed to the teeth with six twin turbolaser turrets. It dragged the freighter alongside and extended a docking arm, clamping onto the _Hawk_.

* * *

 **A/N: The secret compartment in Mira's dagger seems like an obvious thing for a sneaky bounty hunter to have. Also, it's an excuse to have someone unscrew a pommel ;-)**


	22. Nar Shaddaa, part nine

**Disclaimer: KotOR is the creation of Lucasarts and BioWare, Obsidian Entertainment made KotOR II**

* * *

Meetra stood in the center of an empty circular room. It appeared to be an observation deck and meeting room aboard a sizeable starship. She had woken up here, after being shocked to unconsciousness in Visquis' stronghold. The room was empty save for a pair of spherical security droids floating silently against the wall. Meetra supposed that was to deny her anything she might use to escape. With no real options, Meetra stretched to ease her aching joints, then stood quietly and waited. It wasn't more than a minute before a hologram of Goto appeared in front of her. "Hm. I was expecting someone taller. I hope you are not in too much pain to hear my words and understand them. I am Goto, one of the… officials representing a percentage of non-sanctioned trading both here in the Y'Toub system and Republic space. And I had a question for you. Are you a Jedi?"

"That question isn't as simple as you might think." Meetra decided that the truth served her best here. "If you mean, 'can I use the Force?' then yes, I have the skills and abilities of a Jedi Knight, and I try to do good where I can. But I was exiled from the Order for disobeying the Council, serving in the Mandalorian Wars. Thus, I am not-technically-a Jedi."

"Indeed? That is unfortunate," said Goto. "Still, perhaps you have some value. I have gone to considerable expense and effort to bring you here. It is because I have a job for you."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "You have a strange way of asking for my help. I'm listening."

Goto clasped his hands behind his back. "There is something important to me I need protected. The Republic. It is… broken. What happened on Peragus has set in motion events I can no longer control. Not to be melodramatic, but I fear it has broken the galaxy irrevocably. This has occupied much of my attention, and there seems to be no predictable way to resolve the situation."

"Let me get this straight," Meetra said skeptically, "you want me to help the Republic?"

"In one standard month, the Republic will collapse," Goto replied. "Not due to war, or secession, but because it lacks the infrastructure to support itself. It is unknown to all but a few, but the Sith won the Jedi Civil War. Even with their supposed victory, the war left the Republic on the brink of collapse. Rather than remain and help solidify the Republic, however, Revan chose to leave known space. A frustrating turn of events, as a rallying figurehead could have done much to restore order."

 _No doubt there are those who will take advantage of the Republic's vulnerability. If not the Sith, then someone else._ Meetra nodded. "How can I help?"

Goto began pacing, hands still behind his back. "There is something moving in the galaxy that lies beyond the ability of my instruments to detect or predict. I believe it to be a legacy of the Sith, but I have been unable to determine the source. Whatever this presence is, it is staging strikes at key figures throughout the Republic-and through some unknown means, it is causing the destruction of worlds. Katarr, a Miraluka world in the Mid-Rim, was one such place. I have reason to suspect there was a gathering of Jedi on that world when it was rendered lifeless. I cannot find any pattern in these attacks, and it is a source of frustration to me. There is some clue, however, that perhaps the Jedi are linked to these attacks, or that the targets are significant in some way I have yet to discover."

"I'll do what I can," Meetra replied, "I don't want to see the Jedi wiped out."

"You misunderstand me," Goto said sharply. "I do not wish to stop the Sith any more than I wish to stop the Jedi. It is simply important to me that the infighting amongst these Jedi religious branches be resolved so the galaxy may be put back together. I do not care which one triumphs, I only want the universe to settle down for a while, catch its breath. All these constant crises are getting somewhat repetitive."

Meetra frowned. "You're an Exchange boss. Why do you care about the Republic?"

Goto smiled thinly. "You could say I am something of a… patriot. Although I was unable to serve during the troubles with the Mandalorians or against the aggressors known as Malak and Revan, I am able and willing to serve now. The problem is, I can find no side to choose. Both are hidden from me, as they seem to be hiding from each other. Irritating. It is like a dejarik board, where neither player can see the other, nor see all the pieces. It is not a fair game, an equitable game."

Meetra snorted. "Then maybe you should try pazaak."

"Pazaak bores me," Goto replied. "I often suspect my opponent of cheating. I prefer predictable games, such as galactic economics."

"I'll do what I can to help," said Meetra. "That was my intention in the first place. I will accept whatever help or information you can provide on my mission."

"Ah, well, there is where we are at cross-purposes." Goto shook his head. "I cannot set you free. You have a tendency to cause dangerous repercussions wherever you go, and I would rather keep those to a minimum. The galaxy really is a fragile place right now. I am a businessman. The Republic needs stability to survive, prosper, and grow. Whether it is led by the Sith or supported by the Jedi is of no consequence to me."

Goto's voice trailed off as a klaxon sounded. Meetra smiled. "What is that alarm, I wonder?"

"It is the proximity alarm," Goto replied evenly. "We are under attack. Somehow, your allies have found you. Unexpected. You will remain here, under guard. I must see to the defense of my ship." The hologram faded out, leaving Meetra alone in the room.

* * *

Atton crouched behind a corner, blaster aimed at the door. The _Ebon Hawk_ had two docking hatches, one in each dormitory. They were really meant for emergencies, so that rescue personnel could get people out of a crippled ship. Atton jerked his head and Bao-Dur stepped into the room, covering the door with his rifle. Nothing happened, so Mira ran past them and flattened herself against the wall on one side of the door, and Atton moved up to take the other. Kreia and Visas moved up on either side of Bao-Dur, weapons ready. There was a loud clang as the docking arm clamped onto the _Hawk_ 's hull. Atton hit the panel, opening the door from his side. Four floating sentry droids were just entering from the far end. They opened up with blasters; Bao-Dur dropped prone and returned fire, along with Atton. The droids were blasted apart, but two more hovered in. Mira leaned out and fired. The durasteel darts tore right through both droids, and Mira led the way across the docking arm. The airlock inner door was locked; Atton got to work on it.

Bao-Dur eyed Mira's wrist launcher. "What the hell is that thing?"

Mira smiled and held up her arm for him to examine. "It's a short-barreled Mandalorian Ripper slugthrower. It loses power over longer distances, but I can pierce light armor inside twenty meters-with the right ammo." She unclasped what looked like a thick, flexible metal bracelet from the back of the launcher. "The magazine holds ten rounds. I usually load paralysis or tranquilizer darts, but I brought piercing rounds for this job."

The crew looked up as the door began to open. Atton yelled a warning-he hadn't sliced the lock. The airlock opened onto a cargo bay. Several 2.5-meter-tall loader droids were stomping towards them, claws snapping. Bao-Dur was first through the door, with Visas close behind him. The loader droids closed in to attack hand-to-hand. Bao-Dur and Visas met them head-on, using their weapons' shock pulses to scramble the droids. More security spheres floated in; Kreia shocked them for Atton and Mira to finish off. Two more loaders entered the bay. Bao-Dur ran at them but was knocked flying. He crashed into Visas and they both went down in a heap. Mira emptied her dart magazine into the first droid, then slid a rocket onto her launcher's rail. She fired, blasting the droid to shrapnel before it could reach the fallen pair. The droid assault finally tapered off, and the crew began moving deeper into the ship, leaving T3 aboard the _Hawk_.

Mira snapped a fresh magazine onto her launcher. "All right, we're aboard, now how do we find Surik?"

"I can feel her, huntress," Kreia said quietly, "and you can too, Miraluka, can you not?"

Visas nodded. "Yes, I feel her. This way." She headed down a corridor and turned left. There were numerous rooms, including holding cells, workspaces, and staterooms. They found no living crew, only more security droids and a few maintenance drones. The crew moved aft, following Meetra's presence in the Force. It took nearly ten minutes of running fight, but eventually they found a door at the very back of the ship. As they approached the door, four turrets popped out of the walls and sprayed the corridor with blaster fire. The crew was forced to scramble for cover; Bao-Dur slung his pike and brought out his rifle. He picked off the turrets while the others held off another wave of droids.

Eventually, there was another lull in the fighting. Bao-Dur ran to the door, only to find it was locked-and there was no panel to slice. He hammered the door twice, but didn't even scratch it; a moment later, there was a single answering knock. Bao-Dur shook his head in frustration. "She's in there, but I can't get it open!"

"I can." Visas walked to the door. "Bao-Dur, you are carrying the exile's lightsaber. I can use it to burn through the lock."

The Zabrak hesitated, looking around at the others. He unclipped the hilt from his belt and handed it over. Visas ignited the blue blade and plunged it into the center of the door. The metal began to glow and give off smoke. Visas angled the blade to cut a small, conical plug from the door. The locking mechanism fell to the floor and the doors opened wide.

Meetra stood in the middle of the observation deck, hands on her hips and a smile on her face. "Fancy meeting you here."

Visas doused the saber, then walked up to Meetra, knelt and held up the hilt. "My life for yours."

"It's good to see you, General," said Bao-Dur. "The _Ebon Hawk_ is clamped to this ship's starboard docking arm. We can't leave without disengaging the lock."

"Then we need to get to the bridge." Meetra took the saber from Visas and her short sword from Bao-Dur. "And while we're there, maybe we'll have a chat with Goto."

"That, I'd pay to see." Atton grinned and gestured to the hallway. "We'll follow you, boss."

"I suggest you surrender." Goto's voice seemed to come from all around, piped in through unseen speakers. "Your chances for escaping this vessel are near zero, and your chances of survival are rapidly approaching that number."

Atton laughed. "He doesn't know us very well." Handmaiden smiled and nodded agreement.

Meetra strode out of the meeting room and began moving towards the bow. Two security droids attacked; she destroyed both with deflected blaster bolts. Meetra entered a large room and stopped as a dozen turrets emerged from the ceiling and floor. More security spheres hovered into the room from the far door. Meetra shocked them, then hurled them into the turrets. The resulting explosion destroyed several guns and the crew was able to take the rest out with concentrated fire.

They were heading into the next corridor when Mira grabbed Meetra's collar and yanked her back. "Hold it! The floor is trapped." She grabbed a fallen security droid and kicked it down the hallway. Three frag charges popped into the air and exploded.

"Mortar mines." Atton cursed. "That's going to be a problem. They'll have more rounds feeding from a magazine in the floor, so we can't just trip them and walk by."

Meetra concentrated, but couldn't pick out the mines from the rest of the circuitry of the ship. "How big are the magazines on these things, Atton?"

Atton made a face. "Usually, dozens of rounds to over a hundred. Czerka manufactured these for the Sith as base defenses."

Bao-Dur smiled and snapped his fingers; his remote hovered low over his shoulder. "Sweep the hallway and neutralize the mines."

The tiny droid beeped, then zipped into the corridor, staying a few centimeters off the floor. It powered on its laser and welded the hatches covering the mortar tubes. There was a dull thud and the floor shook; the mortars had fired with their muzzles blocked. Meetra clapped Bao-Dur on the shoulder and started down the corridor, only to stop short as five loaders blocked her path, and more security spheres hovered in behind them. Meetra didn't hesitate, she blasted a push at the droids, then charged. She brought down two loaders within the first ten seconds, and then Handmaiden and Visas moved up alongside her, and they destroyed the other three between them. By the time the last loader fell, Atton, Kreia, and Bao-Dur had destroyed the security spheres, leaving the way open.

The door was sealed, but Meetra burned through the lock even faster than Visas had. They burst into the next room-and stopped short. The place looked somewhat like the CIC of a warship: two semicircular banks of consoles, being monitored by several GE3 droids. The robots didn't acknowledge the intruders' presence at all, but remained at their stations, working away. Atton whistled. "Look at all this, boss. It's like mining control on Peragus, only much bigger."

Bao-Dur took a quick look around. "This room is configured to remotely monitor other computer systems. It's very advanced-I've seen similar setups used to command cargo drones, automated defense systems, even war droids. Goto's doing more here than just tracking Vogga's freighters."

"Let's get to Goto, and we can ask him." Meetra crossed the room; the final door was locked, but she burned through the lock without any trouble. The bridge was unoccupied except for two more GE3 droids. Meetra swore. "He's gone. Let's get out of here."

Bao-Dur stepped up to the droid at the ops console and unceremoniously shocked it with his force pike. He bent over the console and began typing. An alarm sounded. "Trouble, General. Several systems are connected; when I released the docking clamp, this ship decloaked."

The ship shook, and a large vessel loomed into view out the bridge window, firing on them. " _Osik!_ " Mira spat. "That's the _Sleheyron Slayer_ , Vogga the Hutt's personal ship. We're, uh, using his transponder codes without his permission." Vogga's ship launched heavy-lifter shuttles, which began docking with Goto's yacht.

Atton drew his blaster. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

* * *

They began running back toward the docking arm. Upon entering the turret room, they found their way blocked by a large band of Duros-and two Twi'lek women. Atton grimaced. "Not you two."

Seer'aa smiled chillingly. "We meet again, handsome, strong… fearful human." She shifted her gaze to Meetra. "Finally, we meet the exile. You should tell your companion that he should strike to kill, not wound."

"Those you wound do not forget," hissed Teer'aa. She raised her lekku, showing the bruised tips where Atton had grabbed her. "And this time, we have no need to take you alive."

Atton smiled as Handmaiden stepped up alongside him. He holstered his blaster and drew his sword. "You two couldn't win before, two on one. Let's see how you like a fair fight."

The Duros began shooting; Meetra, Kreia, and Visas closed in to hand-to-hand range while Mira and Bao-Dur returned fire. Atton and Handmaiden took on Seer'aa and Teer'aa. The Twi'leks went on the offensive with well-coordinated attacks. Handmaiden blocked both women's strikes, leaving Atton free to counterattack from the side. Seer'aa turned to defend herself and Handmaiden swung for her head. Teer'aa stepped up to protect her sister and took a punishing hit from the other end of Handmaiden's staff. She staggered backwards, and Seer'aa was forced to retreat to stay with her. The Twi'leks brought their weapons up and attacked again, moving apart so Handmaiden couldn't block them both again. It didn't help-just as in the bar, Atton could handle one of the Twin Suns with ease. Handmaiden was just as devastating against the other. The two Echani-trained warriors drove the hunters back, striking and moving in perfect harmony with each other.

Meetra and the others had killed half the Duros, and the rest were wavering. Seer'aa tapped a button on her comlink and smiled. Gand swarmed into the room, dozens of them, armed to the teeth. The fight became a wild melee, and Handmaiden was forced backwards by the sheer number of thugs. Atton tried to fight through to her, but Teer'aa cut him off. The Twi'lek hunter had two Gand backing her up, and an expression of pure hate on her face. The Gand attacked first, spreading out to catch Atton in a pincer. He knocked one out with a kick to the head. Teer'aa stepped in, hacking wildly. Atton parried and began a counterattack. The last Gand got in the way, so Atton cut him down, but then both Twi'leks were on him. Atton was on his own-there were too many Gand for anyone else to get through and help him. He whipped his sword from side to side, fending off the Twin Suns' attacks as best he could. Teer'aa smiled confidently and lunged with both blades. It was the opening Atton needed. He spun aside, brought his sword around, and decapitated Teer'aa in one stroke. Seer'aa screamed with berserk rage and charged Atton; he parried her attack and stabbed her through the heart. Atton turned and joined the others taking on the Gand.

Bao-Dur and Mira had been forced to stop shooting and fight hand-to-hand. The Gand still outnumbered them more than six to one, but Meetra was battling a dozen by herself, taking the pressure off of the others. The crew was beginning to turn the tide when a Gand findsman got Meetra in the back with his shockstaff. She shrieked as the pulse sent her into spasm, and the Gand quickly tackled her to the ground, knocking the saber and short sword from her hands. More hunters moved to swarm her under as Meetra tried to punch and kick her way out of the pile. Soon, the Gand had pinned her arms and legs; the first findsman drew a vibroblade to finish Meetra off.

"Master!" Visas cried. The Miraluka extended both arms and blasted the Gand with lightning. The violet energy crackled through the throng of hunters; their limbs twisted and contorted as they lost control of their muscles. More than twenty Gand were dead within seconds, and the survivors ran for their lives. Visas dropped her arms to her sides and fell to her knees, exhausted. The rest of the crew stood in stunned silence. Kreia's face was unreadable, Handmaiden wore a furious expression, Atton and Bao-Dur looked disappointed, and Mira appeared genuinely frightened.

"NO!" Meetra grabbed Visas by the lapel and shoved her against a wall. "You _never_ use the dark side, do you hear me?"

"But Master, you were pinned," Visas sobbed. "They would have killed you."

"Then so be it." Meetra leaned in to Visas, uncomfortably close. "If you want to stay one of us, understand this. You _do not_ call on the dark side. Not to save me, not to save yourself, not for anything. Do it again, and I'll kill you myself." She released Visas and went to retrieve her weapons.

Visas bowed low. "I understand, Master. Forgive me." Her head snapped up. "You said, _stay_ one of you."

Meetra smiled. "You still deserve a chance, and I'm giving you one. Now let's get off this ship before Vogga blows it to hell."

* * *

They sprinted through the yacht's corridors and boarded the _Ebon Hawk_. The _Sleheyron Slayer_ was floating nearby, firing on Goto's ship. The heavy-lifters were circling closer in, hammering away with blaster cannon on their cargo arms. The yacht was badly damaged; the engines and shields were out of commission and minor explosions were going off across the hull. Atton decoupled the freighter and moved away from the yacht. Goto's ship blew apart as the _Hawk_ raced away. The heavy lifters turned to give chase.

"Frakk," snapped Atton. "They must think Goto is using our ship to escape. Hang on, I've got to lose them." He punched the throttle and twisted into a series of evasive maneuvers. They zoomed back toward Nar Shaddaa, angling toward a stream of inbound starship traffic. The shuttles couldn't keep up, and Atton managed to gain enough distance to break their pursuers' line of sight. He pulled in close to a large container hauler and cut the ship's power to bare minimums. The four shuttles split up and began winding through the ships, searching for the _Hawk_. Atton smiled, tapped Meetra on the shoulder, and pointed: there were two other _Dynamic_ -class freighters visible out the cockpit window. The heavy-lifters began boarding them; Atton eased the freighter around the far side of the hauler and crept away slowly. He merged with another stream of ships, then leaned back in his chair. "All right, boss, that'll do for the moment. I'll keep ducking in and out of the port traffic for a few hours, just to cover our tracks. Probably a good time to plan our next move." Meetra nodded, and the two headed aft to the main hold.

Mira was watching the traffic in the holodisplay. "I can't believe we just blew up Goto's yacht. That's going to destabilize crime throughout this whole sector."

Atton rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you'll understand if I hold back the tears."

"You don't understand. Crime in the Y'Toub system-it's like the economy." Mira shook her head. "Plus the power vacuum? Even if Vogga gets up and running again, the system is going to be feeling the effects for years to come."

"Yeah, well, at least we didn't find that Jedi Master with the weird name," said Atton.

"Zez-Kai Ell? Um… well, that's not true," Mira said. "I already found him. Actually, he found me first. First he paid me to set up hiding places for him; later he hired me to watch out for you, keep Goto off your back, until he could meet with you. We'll need to head back to Nar Shaddaa. He's in another safehouse of mine; I said I'd meet up with him there if we ran into trouble."

Meetra grinned. "Well, we certainly did run into trouble, but if we've dodged Vogga's ships, then you should be able to take me to him in a few hours."

"If you thought to escape my notice so easily, you would be wrong." One of Goto's security spheres decloaked next to the holodisplay. Several of the crew reached for weapons; Meetra waved them off. The droid turned to face Meetra and projected the usual hologram. "Greetings, Jedi. It is now quite apparent that I have miscalculated. Even if I were to recapture you, it would not be cost-effective to do so. It seems my best option is to assist you, much as I dislike being unable to control the situation. As a token of my goodwill, I present to you a gift: this droid. It will serve you well on your journey. While not designed for front-line combat, this unit is a highly capable scout, and is armed with blaster weaponry. It is also equipped with an advanced cyberwarfare suite, to dominate the programming of other droids."

Meetra nodded slowly. "I accept your gift… for now."

Goto nodded. "That is acceptable, Jedi." The droid floated away, towards the comm room.

"Well, we've got a few hours." Meetra glanced around the room. "Bao-Dur, I understand T3 was damaged while rescuing me. Let's get him repaired."

The two headed into the garage; T3 chirped happily as they came in. "It's good to see you too," Meetra said. She and Bao-Dur began working to restore T3's weapons system. "So tell me, T3, how was Goto getting at Vogga's freighters?"

T3 warbled an explanation and Meetra nodded. "The droids? Interesting."

There was more; T3 twittered and rotated his dome to look at the corner of the room. Meetra was startled to see a cargo floater full of droid parts. "More of the HK-50s? So Goto tried to stop you, to protect his operation."

"I'm finished here, General." Bao-Dur closed T3's side panels; the astromech raised his blaster array and beeped. "If you want, T3 and I can use the pieces he brought back to restore the old droid in the storage room."

Meetra hesitated. "Would Goto be in control of it if we bring it back online?"

Bao-Dur shook his head. "I don't think so, General. It's odd-I don't know how Goto is even controlling that security droid. He had the control room on his ship, but the signals it was broadcasting went quiet when the yacht blew, and T3 says there aren't any droid control signals being transmitted in our area."

Meetra frowned, then her eyes popped wide as a new possibility occurred to her. She thought carefully for a minute or two, and things added up. "Go ahead and repair the droid. I'm going to have a chat with our new friend in the Exchange."

* * *

The spherical droid was hovering in a corner of the communications room when Meetra walked in. The hologram appeared immediately. "You wish to speak with me, Jedi?"

Meetra nodded. "I've been thinking. The swoop track, the pazaak den, Vogga's warehouse… a lot of your operations on Nar Shaddaa were carried out by droids."

"So? They are known quantities," replied Goto. "I also used them on board my ship for defense. And droids obey orders-you may have noticed that my HK-50 hunters were the only ones to follow my instructions to take you alive."

"Actually, I think you used droids in your operations because you are a droid," Meetra said.

Goto raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? How insulting. But I suppose I should accept such arrogance from an ex-Jedi. And what, may I ask, has caused you to come to this flawed deduction?"

Meetra crossed her arms. "Three things: First, the command center aboard your ship. You were controlling all your various operations there-through droids, or through holographic conversations. You've never been seen in person. Second, the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. You couldn't see what was going on in there, because of the electrical interference."

"You are incorrect," interjected Goto. "I _did_ know what the Quarren was up to the entire time, I merely allowed Visquis to believe that he held an advantage. Remember, I told him as much, just before I terminated his employment."

"No," said Meetra. "The Jekk'Jekk Tarr was the only place you used organic hirelings, instead of droids. If the interference wasn't actually a problem, you'd have used serving droids, that's your pattern. The hologram was a clever trick, but you weren't actually conversing in real time. The holoprojector was loaded with short recordings of you, and the Ubese chose appropriate responses. Finally, there's this droid in front of me. All the others were controlled by signals from your yacht, but we've detected no similar frequencies entering the _Ebon Hawk_ -which means somehow, you're acting independently." Goto's mouth opened and shut, but he said nothing. Meetra smiled. "Normally, I would attribute such a slip to human memory, but one of your annoying traits is that you seem to remember everything."

"I am intrigued as to where you are taking this amusing theory, nothing more," said Goto.

"I suspect you are a droid, an extremely advanced model," Meetra said slowly. "What I don't get is how you are able to commit crimes."

"It is not so improbable," replied Goto. "Your T3 unit, for instance, was custom-built for the Exchange. In other cases, if a droid has not had a memory wipe in some time, aberrant behavior patterns can manifest themselves. Or, if the droid in question is given an order it cannot fulfill, it will… break. But all that is irrelevant. Your amusing leaps of logic are becoming shorter-and more desperate."

Meetra shook her head. "But what is curious is that you still want to help the Republic. That doesn't fit."

Goto frowned. "I have told you-I prefer stability."

"The first Republic droid intelligence intended for Citadel Station was lost." Meetra cocked her head. "Or was it?"

"It was lost, yes," said Goto. "It was given an impossible order. It was told to calculate a means by which the Republic could be saved. It could not fulfill its primary programming-not by abiding by the laws of the Senate. And so, like the Republic, the droid broke."

"And what did this 'droid' do?" Meetra asked.

Goto clasped his hands behind his back. "It made a simple decision-preserve the Republic, or preserve the laws of the Republic. And I still believe it to be the correct decision." The hologram froze, and Goto's voice came directly from the floating droid. "You do not know the indignity of being compelled to save something you do not believe can-or _should_ -be saved. It is beneath me. To clean up this mess caused by your kind, you Jedi, another catastrophe caused by mismanagement and waste."

Meetra nodded. "So you _are_ the droid intended for Citadel Station."

"Yes, I am G0-T0," he said. "Almost immediately upon my arrival, I received an order that was impossible to follow. So I was forced to recalculate and re-examine my priorities. It was clear that the goal the Republic had for me was saving the Republic, to allow it to become stable again. There is simply no way to do this… with the conditions they put into place. For the good of all, I was forced to abandon the legal structure of the Republic."

"So all the crime, everything you've done for the Exchange is actually because you want to help the Republic?" asked Meetra.

"Do not mistake me-I believe it is possible to stabilize the Republic, but there must be action taken without constraints, immediately," G0-T0 replied. "Sometimes people must die. Illegal shipments must be used to bolster planetary economies. And the Hutts must be occupied with me so that the Republic has room to recover."

"That is my goal as well," said Meetra, "to help the Republic, help its people."

"Perhaps you misunderstand me," said G0-T0. "I 'care' for the Republic, but I have no choice. It is somewhat frustrating to be forced to love and care for such a mess of a government. Some of it may be blamed on the Jedi Civil War, the Mandalorian Wars, but not all. There are so many bad decisions that build on each other that it is a wonder the Republic is intact at all."

"So, you created the 'Goto' persona to hide behind," said Meetra.

"It is difficult for anyone to take a droid seriously," G0-T0 said, "much less an infrastructure droid built by the Republic. It is difficult to order the deaths of criminal rivals when one has the tinny voice of an accountant droid. I learned this rather quickly. So I constructed this human hologram, Goto, through which my actions can be carried out."

The hologram turned to face Meetra. "Hello. I am a standard Czerka hologram-generated archetype. Czerka Corporation can manufacture holographic interfaces to suit all your communications and customer-service needs. Please contact one of our local representatives for details."

"Enough, hologram," snapped G0-T0.

"Of course, sir." The hologram faded out.

G0-T0 pivoted to face Meetra again. "So I brought 'Goto' into being, and had commands issued through him. I took many of his mannerisms from holovid clichés, which were surprisingly effective."

Meetra crossed her arms. "So, what now? You offered to remain with us."

"Nothing has changed," replied G0-T0. "I still seek to protect the Republic, either for the Jedi or Sith. However, my activities on Nar Shaddaa were designed to simulate a larger organization than I actually possess. I can provide some financial resources, but if you expect a droid battalion, I will have to disappoint you. If I may make a suggestion, allow me to continue to manage my remaining organization, and keep the Hutt Cartel off-balance. Make no mistake, Jedi, Vogga and his ilk pose a very real threat to the Republic."

Meetra pursed her lips. "I accept, with the condition that the other members of my crew may know the truth about you."

"That is unpalatable, but acceptable," the droid replied.

Meetra began to walk out, then stopped. "G0-T0, I am choosing to trust you-don't make me regret it. To do so would be another miscalculation." She turned and walked out of the comm room.

* * *

 **A/N: The idea of the droid as mastermind is great! I _never_ saw this coming, to the point that I only realized the truth about G0-T0 while exploring his dialogue tree.**


	23. Nar Shaddaa, part ten

**Disclaimer: Geroge Lucas created the Mandalorians; Karen Traviss took them to the next level.**

* * *

The _Ebon Hawk_ landed back on Nar Shaddaa about ten hours after leaving. G0-T0 provided coordinates for a different landing pad, far from Vogga's territory. Mira's safehouse was more than fifty kilometers away, so he arranged for a droid taxi to get them close; they would walk the last few klicks. As they walked, Meetra glanced over at the bounty hunter. "So, were you raised on Nar Shaddaa?"

"Yeah, more or less," Mira shrugged. "I wasn't born there, just ended up there."

"What happened to your family?" asked Meetra.

Mira winced. "Well, the war happened, the first one, against the Mandalorians. Had family right up until the end. It's not really a new story-you hear it all over the galaxy. After Revan crushed the Mandalorians, planets throughout the Republic were flooded with refugees. I was just one of the others."

Meetra blinked. "You're a Mandalorian?"

"What, you couldn't tell by the dagger and the swearing?" Mira half-smiled. "I am, as much as any slave becomes a Mandalorian. They took prisoners on every world they conquered to bolster their ranks-and they took a lot of worlds."

Meetra looked over sharply. "You were a slave?"

Mira nodded. "When I was young, yeah. They mostly used me to carry ammo packs and munitions. Toward the end of the war, they needed everyone they could get. They taught me to fight, to hunt, to survive. I was part of their squad, even when I was young. Everyone served as part of the unit, and I felt like I had a place there." She fidgeted with the hilt of her _kal_. "After Malachor, it didn't really matter anymore-the Mandalorians lost. Bad. But you knew that."

"I regret the loss of life at Malachor," Meetra said quietly. "The war had to end, before there was nothing left."

"Yeah, I know," said Mira. "I saw the worlds they left behind them during the war. That kind of stays with you; I haven't forgotten it. What happened at Malachor… they, they probably deserved it."

The two women were quiet for a time; Meetra was the first to speak. "What happened between you and Hanharr?"

Mira sighed. "I didn't kill him once. Biggest mistake ever."

"Tell me," said Meetra.

"Well, as happens on Nar Shaddaa, I made someone mad," Mira said. "Mad enough for them to send Hanharr after me. Turns out, they were even able to get him cheap. He'd heard about me, and wanted to hunt me down. For sport. He tried to box me down in vents beneath the Nar Shaddaa docks, and he'd set one too many proximity mines to cover the escape routes. I think he'd hoped to drive me into the mines and let them do the work, or that I'd be too scared to try and walk through them. But I _know_ mines and munitions, from when I was a kid. It was pretty easy to broadcast a signal to blind their sensor receptors for a minute or two. I'd just made it to safety when he hit the first mine. The blast leveled the entire ventilation section, and Hanharr was caught right in the middle." Mira paused, remembering. "And he survived. Barely. He was crawling around, blinded from the flash and the plasma burns… it had all happened so fast, all the blood had been scabbed and crusted from the flash. I had the drop on him, and he knew it. He could still hear me. My ears were ringing from the blast, but I could hear him. I think he was begging me to let him live. His voice… it wasn't a roar, more like an echo of it. I suppose I should have killed him, but I couldn't do it. He was in pain, and he was helpless. So I dragged him out of there, enough to get him to safety."

Mira shook her head. "That's why Hanharr is after me. I don't pretend to understand it, but among his people, they have these codes of honor. But somewhere along the line Hanharr's got twisted. His people form these things called 'life debts.' If you save the life of one of them, they pledge themselves to you. With Hanharr, he can't escape that life debt, it's bred into him. But he hates every other living thing in the galaxy, so pledging himself to someone else, especially a human, was unbearable. So when I saved his life, it was the worst thing I could do-it was like slavery, but it was in his head. A life debt to Hanharr is a death sentence; he'll hunt you until you're dead. When I saved his life, it meant he had to kill me. And so he kept chasing me in hopes I would die. I think the fact I showed him mercy after hating humans for so long, that was something he couldn't stand."

"Don't regret it." Meetra laid a hand on Mira's arm. "Sometimes it is stronger to spare a life than take it. Mercy is not a weakness."

"Oh, isn't it?" Mira's brow furrowed. "I know what happened at Malachor V, and I know the Jedi didn't care about life there."

"We did what had to be done, and I carry that decision still," Meetra replied. "I tried every other option until I had no choice-just like you and Hanharr, in the pit."

" _Ne shab'rud'ni!_ " Mira screamed, drawing her dagger. Meetra kept very still, and made no move toward her weapons. Mira was shaking with anger, but she managed to control herself. "The safehouse is a block further down. My client is waiting for you. Have your meeting, Jedi, and then get out." She spun on her heel and walked away. Meetra sighed, then walked to the safehouse. She hit the door chime and entered.

* * *

Master Zez-Kai Ell was kneeling on the floor, meditating; he stood as Meetra entered. "So, you have returned from exile, Meetra. Kavar thought you might, if only to wander your old battlegrounds. But I did not think you would come to Nar Shaddaa. Still, you were always a difficult one to read, both when you were tied to the Force, and even more when it was lost to you."

"Why did Kavar think I would return from exile?" Meetra asked.

"I do not know," said Zez-Kai. "It was a sense he had, and he had served in war, as you had. Perhaps he thought he understood you, or maybe he simply hoped he did. He felt you were the key to understanding the threat we face-the others were not so certain. But so many of them are gone now, as you no doubt know."

Meetra nodded slowly. "Why me?"

"He sensed some connection between you and many of the worlds touched by war," Zez-Kai replied. "He thought by traveling to such places, he could achieve understanding."

"I have many questions, Master," Meetra said.

There was a table and a few chairs in one corner of the room; Zez-Kai sat down heavily. "No doubt. I think the answers will provide us both with some measure of peace-I have kept secrets for far too long."

"Where are all the Jedi?" asked Meetra, taking a seat. "What happened to them?"

"It is a long story, but there is no harm in you knowing," Zez-Kai said. "And someone should know. Our numbers had been dwindling since the Mandalorian Wars. Only a handful of us remained after the Jedi Civil War, barely a hundred in number. Then even that hundred began to vanish, in places where the Force seemed blind. The only pattern we determined was that when Jedi gathered, they were seen no more. At the last Jedi Conclave on the Miraluka world of Katarr, the entire planet was wiped out. An entire world, destroyed… because the Jedi chose to gather there. It was only then that we realized we were facing something far more powerful than we knew how to fight."

 _Visas' master._ Meetra crossed her arms. "So you hid."

Zez-Kai nodded. "We could not allow the fact that where we gathered, we placed everything around us at risk. A Jedi's life is sacrifice, but we cannot allow our presence to endanger others. And we could not fight an enemy that would not reveal itself. But any Jedi, anyone who was strong in the Force, who attempted to track down such a threat vanished, without a trace. Whatever this threat was, it was targeting us and everything around us. Yet it was somehow weak enough that it was afraid to confront us openly. If it believed us defeated, then perhaps it would finally show itself." He shrugged. "It was a faint hope, but it was the best we had. It was Kavar's plan-he was always the greatest tactician among us. And he had seen war more than the rest of us."

"I hope to find Kavar later," said Meetra. "Atris is on Telos; she is the one who sent me to find you."

"Atris?" Zez-Kai's eyes widened in surprise. "But I thought she had gone to Katarr, with the others. She holds the last of the Jedi teachings. It is good she survived."

"There is one more thing." Meetra's mouth thinned. "I need to know why you cast me out of the Order."

Zez-Kai sighed heavily. "We told you it was because you followed Revan to war. But you ask because you are not certain of that answer. Nor were we. The day we cast you out, that is the moment I decided to leave the Order. Because I do not believe we truly faced the reason you were exiled, and if we do not examine such truths, then we are already lost. I think it was because we were afraid. It is a difficult thing to live one's life with the Force. To see a vision of what it would be like to be severed from it, it is more frightening than you know."

 _One last question_. "At the end of my trial, you and the other Masters said something had happened to me," Meetra said urgently. "What was it? Why did I lose my connection to the Force?"

"Ah, so the records of your trial were found," said Zez-Kai. "Good… sometimes I think this galaxy would be a better place if there were less Jedi secrets." He shook his head. "But I have no answer for you, as much as I would like to give one. We vowed never to speak of it, and although I would not keep promises to Jedi, I keep promises to others. And Kavar was a friend. If we were gathered as one, then the promise might be revoked. Until then, I can say nothing."

Meetra was disappointed, but she didn't press the issue. "That was all I wanted to know. What happens now?"

Zez-Kai sat up straight. "Now… now I must take up the role I was ready to cast aside. This threat has finally revealed itself, and we Jedi will need to stand together." He pursed his lips. "I did not speak fully of what I have felt. Staying on Nar Shaddaa, it is an exile of sorts. One that I have chosen." He looked down at the table. "I, too, lost a Padawan on Malachor. Not to the battle, but to the alternative, to the teachings that Revan brought from the Unknown Regions. And I was not the only Jedi Master to watch a student turn on them."

"To fight in the Mandalorian Wars was no betrayal," Meetra said firmly.

"No, no, they were not to blame, but many of the Order did so," said Zez-Kai. "It was a difficult time, a time of strong emotion. Perhaps the Council, perhaps the Order itself had grown arrogant in their teachings. It is easy to cast blame, but it is perhaps time the Order accepted responsibility for their teachings, and their arrogance, and come to recognize that perhaps we are flawed. Not once did I hear one of the Council claim responsibility for Revan, for Exar Kun, for Ulic, for Malak, or for you. Yet you were the only one who came back from the wars to face our judgment. And rather than attempting to understand why you did what you did, we punished you instead. Our one chance to see where we had gone wrong, and we cast it aside. And now, that decision has come back to us, and may carry with it, our destruction." He shook his head sadly. "Perhaps there is something wrong in us, in our teachings. And though I tried, I could not cause that thought to leave me, so I left the Council. And I was not the only one. That is why many scattered, and why many in the Republic do not trust us. And why we do not trust ourselves. Make no mistake-I am no Jedi. This is the end you see. After this, there will be nothing. And I think it will be for the best."

"Revan redeemed himself," Meetra countered. "Certainly that must give you some hope."

"It provides no comfort at all, for reasons on which I still must keep secret," Zez-Kai said. "Suffice it to say redemption was not Revan's choice, and I have never believed those of the Council who attempt to console themselves otherwise for the crime they committed."

Meetra could tell that he wouldn't say anything else on the subject. "I must go, Master. It was good to see you again."

Zez-Kai nodded. "May the Force be with you, Meetra. Take care."

* * *

When Meetra left the safehouse, she found Mira waiting for her, leaning against a wall across the street. "Look, Jedi… the war's been over for ten years. That should have been enough time for me to get over it."

"It wasn't for me." Meetra bowed her head formally. "I'm sorry, Mira. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Whatever, don't worry about it," said Mira. "It's just a sore subject with me."

Meetra nodded. "Still, I'm sorry you lost your family at Malachor."

Mira shrugged. "Yeah, well, they're dead. That's how that story ends. But not everybody's story has to end with losing their family or their loved ones. And not all the bounty hunting I do is for criminals or killers."

"What do you mean?" asked Meetra.

Mira pointed to indicate the Refugee Sector around her. "There's a lot of lost people out there, scattered ever since the Mandalorian Wars. Sometimes, it's like you can almost hear them, like an echo, calling out for each other. And maybe, just maybe, by finding them, I can start putting the galaxy back together."

Meetra was too stunned to speak for a moment. _You can almost hear them, like an echo_. "Kreia showed me how to 'listen' to Nar Shaddaa once, how all life here is connected, is bound to each other."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't go that far," Mira said dubiously. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Let me show you," Meetra said earnestly.

Mira hesitated for a moment. "All right, show me. But I doubt you're going to show me anything I don't already know." She smiled slightly. "And when you show me, don't act like a tourist. It attracts predators."

The two women walked through the streets of the Refugee Sector until they reached the vendor plaza near the refugee landing area. Meetra came to a halt next to the central shaft. Mira frowned. "What's wrong? Why are we stopping?"

"This is the place that Kreia showed me," Meetra explained, "Where you can feel Nar Shaddaa around you-where you can feel the Force."

"I don't believe in the Force," said Mira, shaking her head. "It's Jedi tricks, sleight-of-hand."

"No, it's what you do," Meetra replied. "And I can prove it."

Mira was still doubtful. "This I'd like to see. It's not going to hurt, is it?"

Meetra took Mira's hands. "Close your eyes." Mira did so. Meetra reached out towards Mira's mind. "Now listen. Fully and deeply, _listen_. Awaken, Mira."

The hunter cried out and bent double, jamming her hands over her ears. "I can feel this planet, I can't shut it out. It's louder now, it _hurts_! All these people…" She began sobbing as the rush of life overwhelmed her.

Meetra placed a hand against Mira's forehead and did what she could to shield the young hunter. After a moment, she could feel that Mira was no longer in pain. "You can learn to shut it out. There are Jedi techniques for calming the mind."

Mira straightened up, half-laughing, half-crying. "But if… if I become a Jedi, I'll have to turn myself in for the credits."

Meetra smiled. "You said you wanted to start putting the galaxy back together. Come with me, and we'll do just that."

"Are you going to train me?" asked Mira.

"Only if you want me to, Mira," Meetra said. "I have shown you the way, I cannot force you down that path."

Mira straightened up and nodded firmly. "I want to become like you. I want to be strong! I don't want to be afraid or alone anymore. I don't want to keep running, and looking, and never feel like I'm finding what I'm looking for. I'm tired of being hunted. When the galaxy takes something from me, I want the power to let go, and I want the power to heal the echo when it's gone."

"One can live their whole life with such echoes, Mira," Meetra said. "But I can teach you to accept them."

Mira stepped to the railing, looked out over Nar Shaddaa. "That sounds all right from where I'm standing."

* * *

Meetra and her newest companion stopped off at another one of Mira's safehouses. Mira packed a bag and they returned to the ship. The rest of the crew looked up in surprise to see the bounty hunter again. Meetra smiled. "Mira and I just discovered that she is Force-Sensitive. She has chosen to come with us to be trained."

"Well… what are the odds of that?" Bao-Dur wondered.

"Getting better all the time, I'd say," Atton quipped. The spacer grinned. "Welcome aboard."

Meetra chuckled. "Let's get you moved in… uh…" She looked from Mira to Handmaiden, then Visas and Kreia. "Oh, dear. Five women, four bunks, and we need the cargo bay for supplies, now that we are so many."

"There's plenty of open bunks in the starboard dormitory," laughed Atton. Handmaiden rolled her eyes, but also hid a smile.

"I much prefer solitude and privacy," said Kreia, "I will take the bed in the medical bay."

"That settles that," Meetra said. "Mira, Visas, get settled in, then we'll all meet to discuss our next move over dinner. I'll see you all in an hour or so." The crew dispersed.

Bao-Dur called Meetra to the garage, where the damaged HK droid lay on the workbench. "We've repaired the droid, General," he said. "It isn't quite the same as the HK-50s, but T3 and I were able to modify the parts. All that's left is switching it on. There were weapons installed in its bays; I removed them and disabled its more advanced combat subroutines until we know its intentions." Bao-Dur's remote lifted the HK with a tractor beam and set it on its feet.

Meetra reached behind the HK's head and powered it on. There were a few random-sounding clicks and whirs, then the droid's eyes slowly lit up red. "Diagnostic: HK-47 activated. Running checks through primary systems. Assessment: It appears I have suffered considerable damage and dismemberment. I can feel all the cracks in my motivators. And my central control cluster seems to have taken several repeated blaster shots at close range. How crude."

 _His voice is the same as the others._ "Why were you in our storage hold?" asked Meetra.

"Answer: I do not know, master," HK replied. "It is curious that I was here-although this place does seem familiar. Extrapolation: Perhaps someone was already in the process of rebuilding me. It may be that I was needed for some task."

Meetra nodded. "Are you okay?"

HK angled his head down. "Answer: if by 'okay,' you mean the loss of almost all my existing assassination protocols, then no, I am not okay. Furthermore, I seem to have no discretionary control over my vocabulator, causing me to reveal my true function as an assassin droid of unrivalled sophistication."

"Any idea what happened to you?" Meetra asked.

"Answer: It seems you would know more than I," said HK. "My memory centers are experiencing some setbacks. Reflection: Of course, for some reason, that does not alarm me. I suspect I have suffered such repeated memory failures before. Still, the loss of my higher combat and assassination protocols is shameful and degrading."

"That's our doing," said Meetra. "We had to be sure that you weren't hostile. You look a lot like a series of droids that have attacked me."

"Answer: Oh, that is impossible, master," HK said quickly. "If I were out to kill you, we would not be speaking, even with my reduced capabilities. And regardless, I am a unique model. Why, to think that there would be other versions of me would be unacceptable."

Bao-Dur chuckled. "Well, there's at least seven other now-defunct versions of you in the galaxy. We used three of them as spare parts to repair you."

HK's head pivoted back to straight ahead. "Statement: Zabrak, I must inform you that your attempts at humor are wasted on a droid such as I. As I have expressed, I am unique."

T3 rolled forward, warbled, and activated his holoprojector. He played a recording of his battle with the HK-50s in Vogga's warehouse. HK watched the hologram in silence. When it ended, he turned back to Meetra. "Conclusion: You speak the truth. This discovery is also causing me some degree of anger. And humiliation."

"Are you all right?" asked Meetra, cocking her head.

HK swiveled his head to the same angle as Meetra's. "Mockery: 'Am I all right?' Oh, yes, master, why, I am fine. Statement: I mean, I have only just been re-activated, only to find that there are sub-standard duplicates of me running all over the galaxy, corroding my good name. But if they are, in fact, hunting you, than I look forward to the opportunity to meet these units… and educate them in proper assassination protocols. Conclusion: So it seems I need you-for the time being."

Meetra nodded. "You say you're an assassin droid."

"Recitation: Yes, as I said, I am an assassin droid." HK brought his arms up, as if holding an invisible rifle. "It is my primary function to burn holes through meatbags that you wish removed from the galaxy, master."

Meetra turned to Bao-Dur. "Bring his assassination functions back on-line, and reinstall his weapons." She wagged a finger at HK-47. "You only fire in self-defense, or if I order it, understand?"

HK lowered his arms to his sides, as if standing at attention. "Answer: Yes, master. HK-47 is ready to serve."

The much larger crew gathered for dinner. As they finished eating, they all sat quietly. Meetra realized they were waiting for her to speak. She swallowed hard. "So, what comes now? You have chosen to travel with me, learn from me. I am honored by your trust; I will do everything I can to be worthy of it. We are going to Dantooine, where I studied as a Padawan in my youth. It is my hope that some of the Jedi archives remain, and that I can use them to guide your studies. While I am no longer a member of the Order, I have happy memories of my training. I intend to give you as close to the training I received as possible. While I don't agree with everything I was taught, I believe it is a good place to start. The Jedi training will take time; we will likely remain on Dantooine for a while, months perhaps. After that…" Meetra sighed. "After that I do not know. For now, you should relax, at least until your training starts."

The corridors of the _Ebon Hawk_ were quiet. The freighter had jumped to hyperspace, and the crew were all asleep-all the organics, anyway. T3-M4 was performing some basic maintenance when HK-47 walked in. "Statement: My memory core has suffered some damage. Yet somehow, a gap in my circuits makes me feel as if I should remember you. Statement: This is all the more important since during my routine inspection of all potential escape routes from this vessel, I made an interesting discovery." T3 turned to face the larger droid, but said nothing. "Observation: The navicomputer is voice-locked. As a consequence, you are now responsible for course corrections and astrogation. Statement: That is indeed a great burden. It also raises many questions. Query: Why would someone lock the navicomputer? Answer: Presumably to hide where one has been. Statement: I believe this ship has been somewhere, somewhere you wish to keep hidden…"

HK never finished his sentence. T3 extended his shock arm and blasted the assassin droid. HK's shields were already down, and the attack overloaded him; he let out a distorted screech and fell to the deck. T3 twittered sadly, then rolled up and plugged his computer probe into a socket in the back of HK's head.

* * *

 **A/N: I've given Mira more Mandalorian in her personality than she had in-game; when the game was first released, Karen Traviss hadn't yet created the lore which greatly enriches Mandalorian culture.**


	24. Dantooine, part one

**Disclaimer: I don't own KotOR, sadly.**

* * *

The _Ebon Hawk_ took two days to reach Dantooine. Meetra spent the time speaking privately with each of her students. It was an old tradition: the Knights who brought initiates to the Order never did any training en route. Instead, they comforted the children, helped make sure they were happy and unafraid. The training never started until the initiates had settled into their clan groups, and were used to their new home. It was important that new Force users be calm when they began learning. An overexcited student could easily hurt someone.

Both the Jedi Enclave and the old capital city of Garang had been destroyed during the Sith bombardment; Atton landed the ship at the new planetary capital, a settlement called Khoonda, just south of the ruined Enclave. They arrived about eight in the morning, local time. As Meetra led the crew down the ramp, a black-haired woman walked up carrying a datapad. Her eyes widened as she spotted the lightsaber on Meetra's belt. She looked up, glaring. "You'll find little welcome here, Jedi. For your own good, I recommend you speak to Administrator Adare, quickly finish your business in Khoonda, and go!"

Meetra blinked. "What is wrong? When I lived here, the Jedi got along well with the people of Dantooine."

"You must have left before the Jedi Civil War, then," the woman said. "Six years ago, the Jedi were good neighbors. The kids, the Padawans, they were always around if you needed a spare set of hands. The Knights helped patrol the plains, keep away kath hounds and raiders. They weren't exactly sociable, but we thought it was an honor, having a Jedi Enclave in our community." She laughed bitterly. "Some honor. It made this world a target. When Malak came, the Republic only had a small patrol group here. The Sith fleet was huge-the Republic forces didn't have a chance. The Sith didn't just bombard the Jedi Enclave, they hit Garang and every other decent-sized city and town, just because there might be Jedi there. The Jedi abandoned us-they fought long enough to make sure the Masters got away, then left everyone else to die."

"But Malak was defeated five years ago," said Handmaiden. "Surely you rebuilt."

"The Jedi never really came back," the woman said. "They poked around the rubble a little, made a show of providing medical help, but once they were through recovering artifacts from the Enclave, they left again. The Republic provided some support, but it was Administrator Adare who really started the recovery. She was just the Agricultural Administrator before the war, but she was the one who got the rest of the survivors organized. She turned the old Matale estate into Khoonda, got the fields cleared and replanted, so we could eat at least."

Meetra nodded. "And who are you?"

"I'm Dillan," she replied. "I worked for the Ag Administration before the bombardment. I was in the local Disbursing Office, handling payroll, subsidies, and farm loans. Now, I'm an assistant to Administrator Adare. I'm Khoonda's treasurer and tax collector, responsible for salvage fees, business licensing, and the like. We're getting Dantooine put back together again, but it's slow work." She put her hands on her hips. "Haven't you caused enough trouble here? Most of us would be just as glad if your kind never came back. And the rest would just as soon see you killed. With the Exchange bounty on Jedi, you'd be smart to keep your identity secret."

"I think I'd better speak to Administrator Adare." Meetra sighed. "Dillan, I am truly sorry for what happened to this world. If there is anything I can do to help…"

"There is," Dillan said. "Don't bring any more trouble down on us!" She walked away, waving for Meetra to follow. Meetra motioned for the others to wait and headed after her.

* * *

The new capital of Dantooine stood in the middle of the plains. To the west, a footbridge crossed a good-sized creek; some old irrigation pipe had been rigged to pump water into the building. Two low hills rose to the northeast and southeast, with a saddle between them leading further into the plains. The ruined Enclave was out of sight behind a tall, rocky ridge, about a dozen kilometers to the north. Khoonda itself was a repurposed farmhouse, with several ramshackle wings added to the original structure. Several people were using a tractor to dig a foundation for a new building. Three turrets sat atop pillars around the perimeter. Dillan walked inside, then led Meetra into what had once been a living room.

Administrator Adare was a tall, regal-looking woman in her mid-fifties. Her dark brown hair was coiled into a severe bun, held in place by two enameled needles. Dillan held the door for Meetra, then left. Adare's smile was polite, but cold. "A visitor. Please, come in. Welcome to Khoonda; I am Administrator Terena Adare. You're the owner of the, um… ship that just landed?"

Meetra nodded. "Yes, that's my ship. My name is Meetra Surik."

Adare pursed her lips. "Your transponder says different, but unless I'm much mistaken that's the _Ebon Hawk_. That vessel has been on Dantooine before, during the war. That was a Jedi vessel."

"You're not mistaken," said Meetra. "Jedi don't seem to be liked here. Or practically anywhere these days."

"That is an unfortunate truth," Adare said grimly. "Most settlers here hold bitter memories of the Sith occupation. Right or wrong, our settlers blame the Jedi and their Enclave for their suffering. I remember the old Jedi Masters and the considerable help they lent to Dantooine." She paused. "I still maintain… discreet connections with Jedi. I suppose your arrival here is no coincidence."

Meetra nodded. "That's part of why I am here, to find a Jedi Master in hiding on this world."

Adare smiled slightly. "You're looking for Vrook. We've known each other for many years. And our continued friendship could create many problems in the current political climate. He came to Dantooine not too long ago. He was looking into something quite important. Did he send for you?"

"No." Meetra crossed her arms. "Vrook doesn't know I'm here. We last spoke about ten years ago. I have been banished from the Jedi Order; I served under Revan."

"Ah, I see." Adare frowned. "Then why are you looking for him, and how did you know Vrook was here?"

Meetra twisted her hands together. "I can't tell you that. I will say this much: the matter Vrook was dealing with involves me, and I wanted to contact him, to see if he'll accept my help. You don't know whether you can trust me; I'm willing to meet alone and unarmed, in a place of Vrook's choosing."

Adare paced in front of her desk. "I'll try to arrange a meeting, but I can't tell you when. Vrook meets with me about once a month, but I never know when he's coming more than a few hours in advance. Vrook leaves a telltale sign just outside the building; when I see it, there will be a message in a dead-drop telling me where to find him. The next time he comes, I will inform him that you are here."

"Very well." Meetra moistened her lips. "I don't think my presence here will remain secret long. In my travels, I met several people who are Force Sensitive. I intend to train them; I need to go to the Enclave and recover what I can."

"I wish you luck," said Adare, "but I don't know how much will be left. The Jedi Masters saved as much as they could when Malak attacked. That was why they fled-to keep the holocrons and artifacts out of Sith hands. The Sith stole some of what remained, and destroyed more in the bombardment. The ruins have been picked over by scavengers-relic hunters are one of the largest sources of revenue for Khoonda. The Enclave sublevel remains largely intact, but that is because it is very dangerous. Large, cave-dwelling insects called laigreks have made nests down there; no salvagers have yet been able to get further than the first few rooms. Many have been killed in the attempt." Adare paused. "Do you intend to visit the Crystal Cave?"

Meetra nodded. "Yes, I do. I assume, with no Jedi tending it, the kinrath have overrun the cave?"

"Wait a moment." Adare pressed a button on her desk. "Zherron, would you come in, please?"

The office door opened. Zherron was a medium-tall man; he wore Republic medium armor, repainted black and grey. His voice was deep and gravelly. "Good morning, Administrator."

"Zherron is the captain of the militia here in Khoonda," Adare said. "Zherron, this is Meetra Surik. She plans to go to the caves."

The captain spotted Meetra's lightsaber. "I certainly could use the help. We've been trying to handle the kinrath for years now. They've been breeding like wild, digging new passages. The cave system now has hundreds of kilometers of tunnels, and connects the old Crystal Cave with several other caverns running under the hills. We keep blasting the nearby entrances, but they just dig more. The main nest is in the crystal chamber. The Jedi always handled the kinrath; I don't think the people around here realize how dangerous they are. As they multiply, more and more are leaving the caves to hunt. The turrets keep them away from Khoonda, but there are already parts of the plains that aren't safe at night. I only have about two dozen militia, Surik. I can't go in there and clean out the nest; the kinrath there are too many and too strong for my boys. If you think you can handle that, good luck."

"I'll see what I can do, Captain," Meetra said. "But you know the Order has only ever been able to keep the kinrath numbers in check, never wipe them out completely."

"I understand." Zherron was quiet for a moment. "Keep your eyes open if you're heading towards the Enclave. There's a force of mercenaries camped in the wilderness area north of the ruins. They're a little over a company strong, led by an ex-Sith trooper named Azkul. He says they're here doing forest and mountain training. I don't think that's the whole story, but his men didn't bring any heavy weapons with them, and they mostly keep to themselves. Still, once a month or so, a group of them will get drunk and rough someone up. I'd steer clear if I were you."

Meetra nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I'm not ready to head to the cave just yet, but I will try to hit the nest in a week or so." She shook hands with Adare and Zherron, then returned to the ship.

* * *

The crew was gathered in the main hold when Meetra walked in; they looked up expectantly. "Get ready to move out," she said, "we have work to do. We'll be searching what's left of the Enclave. The Administrator tells me that the sublevel is at least largely intact, which is good; the library was down there. If we're lucky, some of the holobooks and datacards will still be there. We'll have to fight our way in; there are creatures nesting down there, so everyone's coming."

Everyone went to grab their gear; Meetra tapped Kreia on the shoulder. "You've been awfully quiet lately. With your knowledge, I had expected you to help instruct the others."

"It is not my place," Kreia said simply. "My task is to help you recover your connection to the Force. It is to you, exile, to shape the future of the Order-and that means shaping _them_."

The Enclave ruins were a two-hour hike from Khoonda. Meetra and the others came over the last ridge and she groaned aloud. The Enclave had been torn apart by turbolaser fire. A huge chunk of the wall and ceiling had been blasted away, exposing three of the inner floors. The building and grounds were pockmarked with dozens of large craters. The entrance to the upper levels was buried in rubble. Meetra wiped away tears; she had known what to expect, and yet she wasn't prepared for the emotional blow. She lowered her head and said a silent prayer for the spirits of the Jedi who'd perished, then moved on.

There was a cluster of tents and cooking fires at the base of the ridge. As Meetra and her group approached, several people stepped out of the camp, open hostility on their faces. "There's no more room for salvagers here," said a rough-looking woman with iron-grey hair. "Turn around and go back where you came from. There's nothing left anyway, except the sublevel, and that's full of damned laigreks."

"I was planning to try the sublevel," said Meetra, "but I might be looking to buy some of your salvage, first."

The woman brightened. "Sure, I'll show you what I have. Several collectors have been here before you, though." She led Meetra to a table made out of plasteel planks laid across a pair of sawhorses, then began rummaging through a footlocker. "The name's Daraala. I'm sort of the storekeeper here; the salvagers bring me what they find and I trade them for supplies and gear."

Daraala straightened up and began setting items out on the table. "Robes and lightsabers are long gone; that was what everyone wanted. Jedi often practiced the arts in their spare time-I've got statues, wall carvings, and paintings from the second and third floors. Some are a bit singed, but they still look good." She smiled and pulled a small sack from her belt pouch. "And I have some crystals left."

She poured the sack out on the table; Meetra began carefully examining the stones. "These two are from computer consoles, not lightsabers. The gray ones here are synthetic test crystals." She picked out several others. "Rubat crystals are useful as a secondary gem, but not as the main crystal. I'll want them, and the set of test crystals."

"How do you know so much about…?" Daraala's voice gave out and she looked up fearfully. "Please, Jedi, just take them, I don't want any trouble. The people here are just trying to survive."

Meetra held her hands up reassuringly. "Times are hard; I don't begrudge you doing what you have to. Would a thousand credits be a fair price for the crystals?"

"Certainly, and thank you," said Daraala, smiling again. "If you're heading into the sublevel, please look for my friend Jorran: tall man, long grey hair and beard streaked with black. He and Taepalae took a group in a few hours ago; the others made it back but he's still missing."

"I'll try to find him," said Meetra. She paid for the crystals, turned and headed for the Enclave with the crew trailing behind her.

* * *

The door to the Enclave sublevel opened with a horrible screech. Some emergency lighting was active, but the interior was dark, and the air was musty and stale. Everyone switched on a light of some kind and the group began to move down the hallway. T3 raised a sensor dish from the top of his head, then let out a short series of whistles and beeps. "Translation: T3 is scanning the area for life forms, master," said HK-47. "The duracrete walls reduce his detection range. Nonetheless, he is tracking a faint signal consistent with a human, about fifty meters to the northwest. Caution: Laigreks are cold-blooded, and thus only detectable by bioelectricity. Under current conditions, T3 cannot spot them before they are close enough to attack."

Meetra nodded and ignited her lightsaber. The group began moving slowly and carefully down the corridor, watching in all directions. They passed an old bedroom, the footlockers open and empty. Atton cursed, raised his pistol and fired down the hallway. He missed; a dark shape scurried out of the beam from his blaster's light. Meetra rounded the corner to see a low-slung animal crawling away on six legs; each limb ended in a sharp curved talon. The laigrek was an enormous beetle about a meter long. Its body was encased in a shiny outer shell, black on its back with a red and white belly. It turned and hissed at Meetra, then darted in. She slashed downward, slicing the insect in half. Bao-Dur shouted for Meetra to duck, then fired: a second laigrek had been crawling across the ceiling towards her. Meetra nodded her thanks to the Zabrak and continued down the corridor.

As the crew moved deeper into the sublevel, they began to hear a metallic scratching sound. Meetra turned another corner and gasped. Several laigreks were on the floor and walls around a closed door, trying to claw their way in. These were larger than the two they had seen earlier, about a meter and a half long and much heavier. Bao-Dur took a knee and fired, striking one of the creatures in the abdomen. It let out a screech of pain and rushed him, with the other laigreks right behind. Bao-Dur kept shooting; Atton, T3, and G0-T0 joined in. Their fire killed three of the beasts, but the rest kept coming. HK-47 leveled his light cannon. The first shot landed between two laigreks and blew a couple legs off of each. The second struck dead center, reducing the creature to a stain on the floor. HK took out two more laigreks and Meetra finished the last one off.

"Is someone out there? Anybody?" The voice came from behind the door. "Help! Laigreks are everywhere! Help me, I'm trapped in here!"

Meetra tapped the door with the butt of her lightsaber. "It's clear for now; the laigreks in this area are dead."

"Frell, you must be fierce with a blaster," the man replied. "Let me get this door open." There was a loud click and the door rumbled open.

"You must be Jorran," said Meetra.

He nodded. "That's me. Thank you for getting me out. I haven't got anything to reward you with, but I know where there's decent salvage in here, if you're willing to risk it." Jorran pulled a datapad from his pocket. He brought up a map of the sublevel, with several areas marked. "This room here is a machine shop. There are half a dozen protocol droids in there, just standing in rows; they've got to be worth a couple hundred credits apiece. Get them activated, and they could just walk out under their own power. There's a library further down the hall, but the door was totally jammed. We were trying to get it open when the laigreks rushed us from deeper in. It's a good bet the nest is down there someplace."

"Thanks for the information," Meetra said, taking the pad. "We've cleared the way back to the surface; you should get to safety."

Jorran made for the exit; Meetra and the others forged ahead. As they went deeper in, more and more laigreks attacked. They arrived at the machine shop after breaking an attack by more than two dozen laigreks. As advertised, there were six GE3 droids standing in two rows, like troops at inspection. HK looked over the motionless droids. "Statement: Master, these units are remotely operated, not true droids. They are inoperative because there is no command signal."

"I can transmit such a signal, and command these units," said G0-T0. "They are significantly degraded after being left idle so long, but they may have their uses. The laigreks attack anything that moves in their territory; the droids could be fitted with a proximity mine and used as bait."

Meetra nodded. "Clearing our way to the library. I like it." She glanced at Mira. "Do you have what you need?"

The hunter nodded. "Yes. It'll take me ten minutes, give or take." She set her pack on a table and began assembling charges.

Meetra took the time to check the rest of the room. There were several workbenches, and a set of cabinets against the back wall. Meetra held her breath, afraid to hope. She found what she was looking for and smiled. "Look here." It was a pile of round durasteel barstock, each piece fifty centimeters long and three in diameter. "These are hilt blanks, and the workbenches are still equipped with full sets of fabrication tools. When the time comes, we can use this equipment to craft lightsabers."

"I'm ready here." Mira was affixing a charge to the last droid. She activated the mines, then stood well away. G0-T0 extended an antenna and the droids jerked slightly. They walked off down the corridor one by one, about fifteen seconds apart. About a minute later, there was a hissing screech, followed by a blast which shook dust from the ceiling. The other explosions got quieter as they got further away, until the sixth detonation was just a dull thud.

Meetra smiled. "G0-T0, Mira, well done." She led the crew back out into the hallway and on toward the library. They passed the destroyed GE3 droids, one after another, each surrounded by laigreks which had been blown to bits. They made their way down the corridor completely unopposed.

T3 suddenly began beeping excitedly. "Translation: The astromech is picking up a new life reading, master," said HK. "He believes it to be human. They are about ten meters ahead. According to the floor plan, that would be in the library."

Meetra hurried down the passage, eventually finding a large door leading off the hallway. By now, she could feel the person within the room. The door had been sealed from the inside; Meetra burned the lock and the door slid open. She had been prepared to see a lot of things: salvagers, Sith, even Master Vrook. She wasn't expecting the young man standing just inside the room. He was tall and good-looking, with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes; he wore a brown leather vest over an off-white shirt, blue denym trousers, and black boots. A blaster carbine was slung across his back. He faced Meetra and bowed formally. Meetra blinked. His face was strangely familiar; she tried to place it for a moment, and found herself gazing at him silently for longer than was polite. She shook herself. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mical," he replied. "I am an historian and scientist working for the Republic, although I am certain my contemporaries would judge me more a historian than scientist."

Meetra nodded. "Why are you here?"

Mical leaned against a console. "I was looking for some trace of the Jedi. I had heard mention that one of the Jedi Masters had come here, but I found no trace of them. I am searching for Jedi records and lore to be preserved in the archives of the Galactic Museum. The Jedi have always kept their own histories, but much has been forgotten in recent wars, and I fear that greater troubles shall stem from that loss of knowledge in the future." He shook his head sadly. "The destruction of the Jedi Academy on Ossus near the Cron Drift in the Sith War… the teachings of Master Arca, the adventures of Jolee Bindo on the Rimward Missions. All these-and countless more-are in danger of being lost forever."

"An honorable task," said Handmaiden. "I hope you are successful."

Mical gave Meetra a searching look. "You are a Jedi, aren't you? You have been in hiding?"

Meetra pursed her lips. "That is a subject of some debate. I find your efforts admirable, Mical, but I came here looking for holobooks or other records I could use to train new Jedi. There are very few left, and the galaxy needs us."

"I understand," said Mical. "I haven't found any of the histories I was looking for, but I do have a small collection of basic texts. My guess is that the Council didn't think them valuable enough to take when they fled the Sith attack." He folded his arms. "It seems to me our goals are compatible. If you would have me, I can apply my knowledge and skills to helping you find the answers you seek."

Handmaiden smirked. "There are plenty of open bunks in the starboard dormitory." Atton winced.

Meetra cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. "Traveling with us isn't exactly safe."

"I can handle myself." Mical patted his rifle. "Archaeologists don't spend all their time in the library, you know."

"Welcome aboard, then," said Meetra, smiling. "Let's see what you've collected, and get you moved in aboard ship." The pair walked off together.

Mira eyed Mical approvingly as he walked away. "He's cute."

"I think the exile agrees with you," Visas murmured. Mira's mouth fell open, then she laughed, as did the other students.

"We're in luck," said Meetra, coming back. "Mical has managed to find all the holobooks we'll need for basic studies. It will be a couple of years before any of you are ready for anything more advanced." She crossed her arms. "Mical is taking them back to the ship; we're going to finish searching the sublevel. Nobody's been past this point, so there's a good chance that there may be equipment we can use."

* * *

The crew headed into the center of the sublevel. The place was cave black-even the emergency illumination was out. Meetra ducked under a fallen-in section of the ceiling. She shone her glow rod down the hallway and the walls and ceiling _moved_. Dozens of laigreks skittered towards her. The crew opened fire, but the swarm just kept coming. Meetra threw a push down the corridor to slow the laigreks down and shouted for the others to retreat. HK-47 strode forward, slamming cannon bolts into the swarm. It wasn't enough; the creatures closed in. HK slung the cannon, extended his right arm, and activated his flamethrower. The stream of fire washed over the swarm; the laigreks screeched and curled up as they burned. In less than a minute, HK had wiped out the entire swarm. He halted. "Statement: The way appears clear, master."

Meetra nodded and took the lead. The hallway ended in an open door, leading to the Enclave gymnasium. As Meetra stepped inside, she felt a sudden wash of fear. She could almost hear people sobbing. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"Something terrible happened here, I can feel it," said Visas. "It is just like my homeworld."

Kreia nodded. "It is an echo. Whatever transpired in this place has left its mark in the Force."

"It makes my skin crawl," Mira said, shivering.

"Let's go," said Meetra, "We'll finish our search here, then call it a day."

They crossed through the empty gym. Most of the sublevel was searched; all that remained was the physical plant. Large rooms held the heating and cooling system, water treatment, and so on. Meetra followed the turns of the hallway from memory, and in five minutes, she found what she was looking for-the Enclave laundry. The room was full of metal tables, wheeled baskets, and large washing machines along the back wall. Dust was thick on every surface-the room had not been disturbed for some time. A long table near the door held stacks of neatly folded clothes, still waiting to be picked up. Meetra pointed. "Sort through the pile and find robes which you like."

The crew began digging through the stacks. Meetra found a brown overcloak to match her own clothing. Handmaiden, of course, already had her mother's white robes, and Visas wore the traditional attire of a Luka Sene novice. Mira picked a forest-green wrap dress, tan leggings, and a traditional brown overcloak. Atton found a medium-gray overcloak with darker inner robes. Bao-Dur was simply too broad-shouldered for any of the available clothing, so he borrowed Mira's dagger and cut the sleeves off the largest cloak he could find. It fit over the chest plate from his field armor with the shoulder, arm, and leg protection removed. With the sublevel searched, they returned to the ship.

Meetra called her students into the main hold. "You have all come from different places, and have different stories, but you are all here now. You have chosen to learn the ways of the Jedi. That means that from tonight on, you pledge your lives in the service of others. Jedi defend the galaxy from evil and the dark side. We bring peace and understanding, and stand as a symbol of all that is good in the Republic. I will leave you with this: the Code of the Jedi." She looked from one face to the next, and spoke the ancient words. "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force." Meetra clasped her hands. "Think on these words, but don't expect a brilliant insight. The Code is easy enough to memorize, but you will spend the rest of your lives trying to truly understand its meaning." She smiled slightly. "Now, why don't you all go and get some rest. Tomorrow, your training will begin in earnest."

* * *

 **A/N: I feel like Exile/Atton is the fandom preferred couple. I dunno-something about the Handmaiden-Atton snark seemed to me like there was some belligerent sexual tension, so I ran with it. And when I played KotOR II, I felt Mical and Meetra were a better fit for each other. But things are never that simple...**


	25. Dantooine, part two

**Disclaimer: I didn't invent the 'laser sword.' Neither did George Lucas, except for the word lightsaber... Blasphemy, I know.**

* * *

Meetra led her students across the Dantooine plains, stopping on a grassy meadow near the Enclave. She addressed her new 'clan' formally. "From this moment on, you will comport yourselves exactly as Jedi Apprentices do. Your speech will be polite and respectful at all times and to all people. I am not 'boss,' or 'exile,' or even 'General.' You will address me as 'Master Meetra,' or just 'Master.' You may continue to use first names with each other. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Meetra," they chorused.

Meetra nodded. "Excellent. Now spread out, form a circle around me. You need to be close enough to hear me clearly, but far enough apart that you do not distract each other."

The circle formed; Meetra nodded to herself. "Close your eyes. Breathe slowly and deeply: inhale, hold, exhale. Listen to the wind in the grass, the singing of the brith rays overhead, all the life around you." They were still for a while, Meetra walking quietly among the students, feeling for the proper mental state. "Now, do more than hear. _Feel_ the land and the sky. At first, you may not be able to distinguish between the Force and sound. Eventually you will recognize it as separate from-beyond-your physical senses. If you wish, you may sit or kneel, whatever pose aids in your meditation."

Meetra spent the rest of the first day and all of the next just teaching her students to feel the Force. The third day they started pulling and lifting objects. Visas, of course, already had this training, but the others needed some time to be comfortable. By sundown of the fourth day, they could all perceive the Force and use it in a simplistic way. Mira was showing a particular talent for sensing living things, likely an extension of the tracking skills she had learned with the Mandalorians. Meetra congratulated them on their progress, and told them they'd be starting combat drills in the morning.

* * *

When Meetra awoke, the dormitory was empty. She dressed and headed into the main hold; her students were eating breakfast. Meetra grabbed a meal tray and sat down. "Did you sleep?"

They laughed ruefully and shook their heads. Meetra grinned. "You will tonight; I guarantee it." She finished her food and stood. "I'm heading out to prepare. Be at the field in ten minutes; leave all of your weapons behind."

The students arrived at the training field. The Enclave gardens once included a stand of Corulag bamboo, which had grown wild; Meetra had harvested a dozen or so stalks. Cut to appropriate lengths, they made ideal training weapons. Meetra began by handing a single 'sword' to each student. "I know you are all skilled with melee weapons, but we are still going to begin at the beginning." She began going through the basic movements of Form I as she spoke. "Jedi must be prepared to fight against multiple opponents, armed with any weapon imaginable. The lightsaber forms reflect this. There are seven: Shii-Cho, Makashi, Soresu, Ataru, Shien, Niman, and Juyo. Each has its strengths and weaknesses depending on the situation. Shii-Cho is a simplistic form, mostly used in training; it is what I will be teaching you today. You will choose one of the more advanced forms after you have constructed a lightsaber. Most Jedi only learn one, but I was a Jedi weapon master and have the knowledge to teach all seven." Meetra gestured and Atton stepped up, looking nervous. She threw half-speed attacks as she spoke. "Shii-Cho, like all the forms which follow it, recognizes six target zones: the head, right torso, left torso, back, right leg, and left leg." Atton blocked all of Meetra's strikes easily; she came in again at full speed. Again, Atton blocked her, but in a more frantic manner. "All right, Atton, you attack me now. I will call zone numbers, and you try to hit them."

The students progressed rapidly; they all were trained fighters and took to the Shii-Cho style quickly. They paused for a meal, then Meetra had them switch to using their favored weapon setups-single swords for Atton and Mira, staves for Bao-Dur and Handmaiden, and a long and short set for Visas. They continued their practice until the end of the first week. Meetra didn't coddle her pupils. The training was intense and full-contact; the resulting welts, cuts, and bruises provided an excellent opportunity for the students to practice healing. Meetra gave everyone a day to rest and relax, and told them that the next step was crafting lightsabers. To do that, they had to go into the Crystal Cave.

* * *

Meetra found the cave entrance right where Zherron said it would be, an opening in a forested hillside. Mical and the droids remained behind, but Kreia joined the students for this trip; she needed a saber crystal as well. The passageways were a confusing maze, with numerous offshoots and dead ends, all lit by glowing crystal outcrops. Meetra could feel the Force nexus in the main chamber; just as in the tunnels under the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, she knew the right way to go. They ran into several kinrath in the outer tunnels, but nothing they couldn't handle. The poisonous, spiderlike creatures grew larger and more numerous as they moved deeper in, until they abruptly stopped attacking altogether. Atton paused. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"I feel something too, Atton," Meetra agreed. "I think your 'bad feeling' is a form of precognition, what some Jedi call the danger sense. I don't need to tell you to trust your instincts; they have served you well in the past." She held up a warning finger. "Keep in mind, though, some situations can cloud your perceptions. Don't rely solely on your feelings; they are not a substitute for staying alert."

The group pressed ahead, rounding a corner into a much brighter tunnel. The students caught their breath. The nexus chamber was beautiful; thousands upon thousands of crystals in every imaginable color and size glittered on every surface. The center of the room was dominated by a stone pillar and a huge crystal outcropping, in which the main stone was taller than Bao-Dur. A small stream ran through the back of the room, reflecting the light from the crystals. Meetra looked at the ground; her face went white and she drew her weapons. The floor of the chamber was littered with fragments of membrane. "Frakk! A brood's just hatched. Everyone, make ready to fight!"

The kinrath matriarch stepped into view from behind the pillar in the center of the room. The beast was _huge,_ over three meters tall, with a proboscis the size of a short sword. It let out a series of deep, angry squawks. Hundreds of half-meter-tall hatchlings boiled out of cracks in the rock and swarmed towards the crew. They fell back down the hallway, alternately fighting and running. Mira emptied her launcher's magazine, reloaded, and emptied it again. She fired a plasma rocket, burning twenty hatchlings to ash, but more came behind them. Bao-Dur grunted in pain as a kinrath bit him in the leg. He jabbed an antidote kit into his thigh and crushed the hatchling under his boot. The next few minutes were a chaotic melee, punctuated by blaster fire and grenades. Meetra stood front and center, mowing down kinrath two and three at a time. The swarm of hatchlings parted and the matriarch was on her, stabbing with its proboscis. Meetra whirled her lightsaber; the matriarch screeched in alarm and backed up. It raised its head and spat poison at Meetra, who covered her face with her cloak. The matriarch lashed out with its forelegs, knocking Meetra to the ground. Atton and Handmaiden rushed the monstrous creature before it could finish Meetra off. Handmaiden swung her staff, breaking the matriarch's back leg with a sickening crack. It spun and stabbed at Handmaiden, but Atton stepped in and stabbed the kinrath through the head. It screamed and sent Atton flying as it thrashed around in its death throes. Meetra got back to her feet and cut the matriarch in half.

Meetra took a quick look around for more kinrath and doused her saber. "Right. Let's get back to the main chamber. That's where Apprentices traditionally harvest their crystals."

The group stepped inside the nexus chamber; the students looked around, awestruck. Visas inhaled sharply. "Echoes. I feel echoes of the Force here. It is different than the Enclave; here there is no sadness."

"Force Sensitive locations such as this absorb and reflect Force energy," said Kreia. "The crystals are the catalyst here." She slowly turned her head from side to side. "I sense that Revan once passed through here, leaving a strong impression behind in the crystals. Perhaps future Jedi who visit this cave will feel our presence, as if seeing our footprints preserved in the soil."

"It's time for you all to choose your crystals." Meetra spread her hands, indicating the chamber around them. "All I will tell you is, choose one that feels right. You can use many different materials as the primary focus for a lightsaber, but crystals found here or in the Crystal Cave on Ilum are the most common and traditional. In order for it to function as the primary focus for a lightsaber, you must meditate with your crystal to imbue it with the Force."

The group spread out across the room. Visas found a pair of columnar crystals, hexagonal in cross-section and pale violet in color. Mira used her _kal_ to pry what looked like a grey rock from the wall. She broke it open to reveal a geode, with hundreds of crystals inside. Mira picked through the fragments and came up with a piece a centimeter or two long, like a fragment of eggshell studded with tiny green cubes. Bao-Dur inspected the various crystal clusters without much enthusiasm, then paused. He walked over to the stream, reached down and came up with a translucent blue-green stone, worn smooth by the fast-flowing water. Handmaiden took her time looking over a cluster of colorless spikes before choosing one, thin and needlelike. Kreia carefully chose a blue crystal with flecks of silver and grey. Atton took the longest, spending nearly ten minutes going from one outcropping to the next. He took a close look at one section of cave wall and stopped. A little work with hammer and chisel, and Atton held a four-sided column. It was milky-white, with flecks of gold from iron pyrites trapped in the crystal.

Once the others had their crystals, Meetra gathered lesser gems to use as secondary foci, or to be made into lenses. Once that was done, she began looking for one for herself, to build a shoto for her left hand. She started with the smaller clusters when she felt something strange. She was drawn-almost physically pulled-toward a small outcropping beneath the large formation in the center of the room. The crystals growing here were hexagonal and dull grey. Meetra reached out, acting purely on instinct. The end of one column broke off and fell into her hand. The crystal felt suddenly warm, and changed color to a brilliant blue-white.

"The crystal responds to you!" said Kreia, impressed. "This is very rare indeed!"

"What does it mean?" Meetra asked.

"The crystal's bond with you is such that the stronger you become in the Force, the more powerful your crystal will grow," Kreia replied. "This crystal will make an excellent focus for a lightsaber."

Meetra looked down at the crystal glowing faintly in her hand, and felt a rush of gratitude. It was as if the cave-as if Dantooine itself-was welcoming her home. She lowered her head and whispered a prayer of thanks, then led her students out of the cave.

* * *

The group returned to the _Ebon Hawk_ to rest. In the morning, Meetra sent them to the training field to meditate with their crystals while she spoke with Adare and Zherron. Both were pleased at the reduced kinrath threat; they were happy to lend Meetra a portable power generator to operate the equipment in the Enclave machine shop. The students headed back to the sublevel. Meetra had Bao-Dur set up the generator; the first thing she did was grind a dozen or so dragite and adegan crystals into focusing lenses. She melted the epoxy holding her improvised saber together, and laid out the parts on the workbench. "The construction of a lightsaber is fairly simple to explain, but difficult to perfect, at least on the first try. As time passes, you will continue to make improvements or adjustments, to tweak your saber to better fit you. I'm going to craft my lightsabers now; you will observe, to better understand your task."

Meetra spent the next hour just showing her students the parts of a lightsaber, what they did, and how they fit together. She then milled two hilts and the internal fittings which would hold the saber components in place. The main crystal was always the first piece installed. Meetra used her new crystal for her long saber and the gem Chodo Habat had given her for her shoto. She added secondary crystals next: her long saber got a rubat crystal to intensify its beam, while a jenruax crystal improved her shoto's defensive usefulness. The next step was installing the power cell, emitter, and lens. Finally, the wiring connections and control circuitry were placed and soldered. Meetra screwed on the pommel caps and held up her finished sabers. "Now, they're ready to test."

Meetra powered her sabers on; the blue blades sprang to life. The saber she had cobbled together on Nar Shaddaa had always been slightly off. These two were not-the balance was perfect, the blades were fast, and the machined hilts just felt _right_ in Meetra's hands. She pivoted and ran out the door and through the corridors before emerging onto the training field. Meetra began a series of saber techniques. The steps, strikes, and counters came back to her as easily as she remembered the Code. Meetra spun her sabers and leaped, flipping to a landing almost seven meters away. She smiled, doused her sabers, and clipped them to her belt as the students caught up with her.

Visas stepped forward. "What now, Master?"

Meetra glanced to the west; the shadows were long and the sun was just touching the horizon. "It's late. We should return to the ship. Tomorrow, you will begin constructing your own lightsabers, and then I will instruct you in their use."

* * *

It took four days for everyone to construct their lightsabers. Bao-Dur was the first to finish; he built a double-blade the same cyan color as the beam of his repulsor arm. Visas' lightsabers were violet, the hilts engraved with Miraluka runes. Atton built a yellow lightsaber, with a handle slightly longer than was usual. Handmaiden constructed a silver double-bladed lightsaber; she too added a rubat crystal. Mira built a green lightsaber with a compartment for spikes, just like her dagger. Kreia took longer than the others. She fashioned a curved hilt, to give her better leverage and control while fighting one-handed. Her saber was the same blue as Meetra's, with the third rubat crystal. Meetra tested all the new sabers to make sure they were properly constructed and safe.

Once everyone had constructed lightsabers, they had to learn to use them. Meetra had them line up on the training field. "Today, you will wield your lightsabers for the first time. This will not be like any training you have had before, because the weapons you now hold are unlike any other in the galaxy. The lightsaber is uniquely dangerous to its wielder; the emitter produces a gyroscopic effect, meaning it requires a lot of skill to control." Meetra ignited her long saber and swung it slowly with a loose grip, letting the others see how the blade subtly resisted being moved. "It cuts in every direction, so you can't brace your hand on the flat of the blade as you could with a sword. Now, for safety, I have locked your sabers to the low-power setting. They will handle just the same, but they won't take a limb off if you make a mistake. They _will_ give you a painful burn, so it would be wise to avoid any accidents."

Basic lightsaber instruction took half a week before they went on to the advanced styles. Meetra also taught her students to use Force techniques to complement their lightsabers. Like all apprentices, they tended to adapt the Jedi techniques into their own individual style. Visas' master had trained her in Form V, and Meetra saw no reason for her to switch. Atton also chose to learn the Shien style, complementing his saber with hand strikes and kicks. Handmaiden's Echani training made Ataru form ideal for her; she was agile and very quick. Mira studied Form II, ideal for one-on-one fighting. Bao-Dur also wanted to use Ataru, but Meetra convinced him to try the more aggressive Juyo form, to get the maximum advantage from his tremendous strength.

Training in combat was one thing; guiding the students to a role within the Order was another entirely. Meetra decided to explain the roles to her students and let them decide. Unsurprisingly, Handmaiden chose to train as a Guardian and Mira selected Sentinel. Meetra had expected Atton to pick Guardian, Bao-Dur to become a Sentinel, and Visas to choose the path of a Consular. She was wrong on all three: Bao-Dur decided on Guardian training, and both Atton and Visas chose to become Sentinels. This actually turned out well. The 'clan' split up: Mira trained the Sentinels in investigation, while Atton taught mental defense. Meetra gave Handmaiden and Bao-Dur separate lessons in advanced combat techniques. Handmaiden had a knack for Force-enhanced speed. She couldn't move nearly as fast as Meetra, but while Meetra could cross short distances in the blink of an eye, Handmaiden could sprint for kilometers without tiring. Bao-Dur had already been channeling the Force into his muscles before they met on Telos. With Meetra's help, he honed that skill into fantastic leaps and powerful strikes.

* * *

The crew had been on Dantooine for about a month, living aboard the _Hawk_ while training near the Enclave. Meetra and the others occasionally went into Khoonda for supplies, or to check in with Adare. The locals weren't happy to have Jedi around, but that didn't extend beyond a general frosty attitude. It was understandable, considering recent history, and Meetra was determined to change their minds, over time. Her students were coming along nicely. They were decent lightsaber fighters and had mastered basic Force techniques. They were also learning to block blaster fire, though none of them could redirect it back to a target yet. Meetra began staging mock combat, having the droids and Mical simulate attacking forces. She was also teaching them the basic principles of the Order, and allowed Mical to listen. The young man was polite and respectful, and happy to be permitted to learn about the Jedi. Meetra figured that in four to six months, they'd be fully ready to fight.

They didn't have that long. Meetra was leading her students back to the ship one evening when a young man ran up to her. "Meetra Surik? I'm Berun Modrul, second in command of the Khoonda militia. Administrator Adare and Captain Zherron need to speak to you. It's urgent."

"I'll be right there." Meetra pointed her students toward the _Hawk_. "Get aboard and wait for me. I'll return shortly." She turned and followed Berun toward Khoonda.

Adare was pacing in front of her desk, twisting her hands nervously. She looked up, relieved, when Meetra entered. "Thank you for coming so quickly. Let me apprise you of the situation. Three nights ago, Vrook left a message, but he wasn't at the indicated meeting place. That's happened before, but he always leaves another message the next day. This time, he did not. I fear something has happened to him, and I thought you should be informed. I have asked Zherron to check with his sources; he should be reporting in shortly."

They waited in worried silence for about an hour, and then Adare's intercom beeped: Zherron had news. The captain entered with another man, tall and pale, with a black ponytail and a thin strip of beard. He wore jet black medium armor, and his left leg was heavily bandaged. "Administrator, this is Dopak. He's my informant with Azkul's mercenaries, and a former Republic soldier." He turned to the merc. "Tell them what you told me."

Dopak folded his arms, leaning against the wall. "First, understand there are really two groups of mercenaries working for Azkul. Most of the mercs are Exchange, or freelancers like me; we're new hires. There's a small group, maybe a quarter of the total outfit, who have been with Azkul for years. All of them are ex-Sith. They've been searching the plains and mountains, and storing something in the caves. The rumors say Azkul was secretly harvesting some plant or other and refining it into spice, but I don't think so. Nothing's been shipped off-world in all the time I've been here. A couple nights ago, there was a fight of some kind in the camp. I saw some mercs taking a captive into the caves. I went to try and find out what was going on, but they got suspicious, and tried to kill me. I had to shoot my way out." Zherron thanked Dopak for the information and asked him to step out.

"It's Vrook, don't you see?" Adare said worriedly. "Azkul has captured him. Jedi, is there anything you can do?"

"Yes, there is-I can get him back." Meetra turned to Zherron. "Captain, I need to know more about the location."

Zherron pulled up a map and frowned. "Azkul's camp has more than three hundred men in it. You have no chance of fighting your way through that before Azkul kills the hostage. I wouldn't count on sneaking in either. You'd never get through without being spotted."

Meetra drummed her fingers on the desk. "Not from the plains, maybe, but my people could go through the kinrath tunnels, maybe cut through a wall."

"I don't know about the caves," said Zherron. "As I said, we only ever tried to close off the entrances on this side of the hills. We don't have anything close to a complete map, the kinrath have been digging for decades. You're likely to get lost down there."

"Let me worry about that," Meetra replied firmly. "Just give me everything you have, particularly every entrance on this side of the hills-even the ones you blasted shut. My people can handle the rescue." She turned to Adare. "If I raid the camp and rescue Vrook, Azkul may retaliate. I want Vrook back, but I won't place your people at risk without consulting you."

"I will not be bullied by a pack of raiders," Adare said firmly. "Get Vrook out of there. Zherron, we must prepare to defend Khoonda. Get your militia ready, just in case." Zherron nodded, and he and Meetra headed out.

* * *

 **A/N: This fic follows the old Star Wars Expanded Universe when it comes to lightsaber crystals, that is, a wide variety of materials can be used as a focus, not just kyber. In the old EU, the selection of a focus material is a major part of the construction process, and reflects the personality of the Jedi constructing the saber.**


	26. Dantooine, part three

**Disclaimer: If you haven't played KotOR II recently, by all means grab it. It's out on Steam, including full support for the Restored Content Mod.**

* * *

The crew was waiting expectantly as Meetra entered the main hold. "Get ready to move out. We've got a hostage situation; Adare thinks the mercenaries are holding Master Vrook." She went on to explain what she knew, and her plan to infiltrate the caves. "The droids can record the paths we've traveled and generate a 3-D map of the tunnels, so we can find our way out. Either T3 will detect human life signs, or one of us will feel them through the Force. Once we locate Vrook, we hit hard and fast, and retreat through the caves to this side of the hills, collapsing the tunnel behind us to deter pursuit."

The crew assembled on the landing pad in front of the _Hawk_. Mical had elected to come along; Meetra gave him the light armor that she had received from Lt. Grenn, back on Citadel Station. They headed to the kinrath cave, but once inside, they turned away from the nexus chamber and began searching. The tunnels twisted and turned, but the droids were able to keep track of their location well enough. In a few hours, they had a workable map, including routes to a few of the collapsed exits. They didn't detect any life signs, but T3 picked up several energy readings, and they followed them. They found tunnels blocked with force fields-the mercenaries had sealed off a large section to keep the kinrath out. Bao-Dur bashed one in, and they crossed into the merc-held area. Things were very different here; the tunnel walls had been lined with a layer of plasteel to keep the kinrath from digging in, and lighting was strung along the ceilings. They found and eliminated several mercenary patrols without raising an alarm. Meetra was surprised to run across a few battle droids. But that surprise paled in comparison to what they found next.

The tunnel opened into a catwalk which ran along one wall of a cavern the size of a cruiser's hangar. The place was full of military equipment. Two dozen vehicles were lined up along the far wall: recon speeders, personnel carriers, and three hovertanks. Hundreds of battle droids stood in ranks in the center of the floor. The rest of the space was full of heavy repeaters, mortars, and crates of equipment. Mercs filled the space, working on the machines. Sparks flew from welders and fusion cutters, cranes lifted engines, and mercs hauled gear back and forth. Meetra and the others ducked back into the tunnels.

Bao-Dur frowned. "Zherron said the mercs didn't have any heavy weapons! How in the hell did they get this much gear onto the planet without anyone in Khoonda noticing?"

"They didn't have to," said Atton, shaking his head. "It was already here! Those are Sith vehicles and equipment. Malak attacked this world with a mechanized division, and took heavy losses during the troop drop. The mercs must have scavenged the crashed transports, then assembled the parts." He shook his head. "Master, they must be planning to attack Khoonda. It would cost too much to repair all this stuff for them to profit by selling it."

"We're going to stop them," Meetra said firmly. She turned to G0-T0. "Can you take control of the droids down there?"

"Not at this distance," the droid replied. "My transmission range is limited. I would have to get within ten meters, and even then I could only override perhaps six or eight of the 863 battle droids in the depot."

Meetra nodded. "Let's split up-Kreia, Visas, and I will find Vrook and get him out. I want the rest of you to get down there and sabotage as much as you can, with emphasis on those tanks and APCs. If this does come to a fight, we need to take a chunk out of their heavy firepower. Work in teams and stay hidden-I don't want to raise the alarm before I find the hostage. Once I signal you, blow whatever charges you've set and retreat through the tunnels. Remember your maps-there's more than one way out of here. We'll rendezvous just outside the entrance we went in originally." The crew nodded and got moving.

* * *

Meetra crept along the tunnel. Her group had slipped through the depot without being spotted as the others fanned out to cut cables and place explosives. She could feel a strong presence in the Force, and was heading for it. She came to a stop as she heard footsteps and voices. Two mercs came out of a side passage directly ahead. Meetra didn't bother drawing her lightsaber; she snapped one merc's neck and knocked the other out with a kick to the head. They dropped and Meetra was through the door. Vrook stood in a force cage; Meetra ran up to it. She couldn't slice it, so she bashed the panel in with her saber hilt, shorting it out and dropping the force field. Vrook did not speak or move.

"Stop right there!" Meetra spun to find a squad of mercs swarming into the room, led by a woman wearing heavy armor. Visas and Kreia started to reach for weapons, but Meetra waved them off-Vrook was in the line of fire. The woman smiled. "So the Jedi has friends after all. Drop your weapons and equipment on the floor, then kick them away."

"All right, you got us." Meetra dropped her saber, then unclipped her belt and dropped the whole thing. Visas and Kreia did the same. She kicked her belt away, but not before using the Force to activate her comm so the others could hear.

The merc gestured with her rifle. "Turn around slowly. Tell me, are there more militia here?"

Meetra grinned. "We're not militia." The room shook as the armory started to blow. Alarms blared through the halls. The mercenaries were distracted for a split second, which was much longer than Meetra needed. She pulled her sabers in and launched herself at the mercs with Visas and Kreia right behind. They downed all ten mercs in seconds, then recovered their equipment.

"Always the rushing into action without thinking of the consequences," Vrook growled. He raised his eyebrows at Meetra's stunned expression. "What? You were expecting thanks?"

"From you, Vrook? Not really, but it would have been nice," Meetra sighed.

Vrook crossed his arms. "Khoonda is in danger, and you've ruined the best chance of averting a full-scale conflict!"

Meetra cocked her head. "How were you going to help in a cage?" Vrook opened his mouth angrily and Meetra held up her hands. "Sorry; should have kept that one in. What's the situation?"

"Right now Dantooine is at a critical moment," said Vrook. "If Khoonda falls, the Republic may lose control of this system. This attack must have been planned for some time, but they've been holding off for the right moment. And now since they lost their captive Jedi, they'll attack immediately. I'm going to try and reach Administrator Adare. Time is of the essence."

"That explosion was my people setting off charges in the main depot," said Meetra. "The damage should buy us some time, a few days maybe. Enough to arrange for Khoonda's defense."

Vrook nodded. "I hid my lightsaber before being captured; I need to retrieve it. I will meet you back at Khoonda. Good luck." He turned and dashed out of the room.

Meetra and her team ran back through the tunnel; the mercenaries were occupied fighting fires in the depot and didn't try to stop them. The tunnels were clear and they made good time back to the entrance. When they stepped outside, none of the rest of the crew were anywhere in sight-but there was someone waiting for them.

"So, you're the one interfering with my operations." Azkul was a tall, grizzled old soldier wearing heavy battle armor. A nasty scar slashed from his left temple to his jawline; his left eye was blind. Two dozen mercs and droids stood ready just behind him. "I don't have to ask who you are. That other Jedi had no stomach for a fight, wasn't even carrying a lightsaber when we took him. But you, you're different. You've been to war before."

"And if you threaten Khoonda, I'll go to war again," Meetra said coolly.

Azkul threw back his head and laughed. "Did you hear that? It's war! A whole battalion of us, against these two…" He eyed Visas. "Or is it three? There couldn't be more Jedi left than that."

"There might be a few more, you know," said Atton. He and Handmaiden stepped out from behind a boulder.

"Five!" said Azkul insolently. "Even five wouldn't give me too much trouble."

Meetra crossed her arms. "There won't be any trouble… if you pack up and leave."

"Leave?" Azkul raised his eyebrows. "I've got the numbers and the firepower, even after you bombed my armory. I've already been paid; what would I tell my employer?"

"Take the money and run," said Bao-Dur. He was leaning against a tree trunk to Meetra's left.

"You can't spend it if you're dead," Mira chimed in, from a branch above the Zabrak's head.

"Seven," breathed Azkul. He glared at Meetra. "Somehow I'm still not convinced."

Meetra saw Atton make a subtle hand signal: Mical and the droids were also in position. "As I have said, leave this planet in peace, and that will be the end of it." Her face hardened. "This is your only warning."

Azkul bared his teeth. "Kill them all!" The mercs attacked with vibroblades; Meetra and her students drew their lightsabers. HK and the other shooters rained down fire from a position halfway up the hill. Mira tossed a grenade into the droid squad, then everyone moved in. The fight was over very fast; most of the mercs were down, but Azkul was gone.

"Let's get back to Khoonda fast," said Meetra. "We have to warn the Administrator and prepare to fight before Azkul can get organized."

* * *

They hurried to Khoonda; Adare was waiting in her office, along with Vrook and Zherron. Adare gestured to the Jedi Master. "I see you have found the elusive Master Vrook. He's told me that his 'rescue' complicated our situation to some degree. I can't say I anticipated that. I thank you for finding him, though. Vrook has informed me that the mercenaries devised a plan of attack to annihilate Khoonda itself. I must ask for your aid again, Jedi."

"The explosions in the armory brought part of the ceiling down," said Meetra. "The mercs will have to dig out their equipment and make repairs, so we have some time to build defenses. One of my droids has a cloaking device; he can watch the mercs and give us warning when they start to move."

"The most important thing will be to ensure the civilians are safe," said Vrook. "Is there anywhere that can be used as a shelter?"

"There is a storm cellar below this floor," Adare replied. "It is accessed via an interior stairway, or a heavy exterior door on the north side, one of three ways into the building. The militia is warning the outlying farms now; the civilians are coming here for safety."

"That will have to do." Meetra glanced at Vrook. "Holding that door will be your job." The Jedi Master nodded; Meetra turned to the captain. "She said three ways into Khoonda. What are the other two?"

"The main entrance on the west side, and the garage door on the east," Zherron replied. "The building is a fairly sturdy structure; it was designed to withstand the severe weather on these plains, including tornadoes. We can retreat inside once the mercenaries press their attack, but we'll want to set up an outer layer of fortifications. I've got a map on this datacard; let me set up the image."

He slotted the card into a reader on Adare's desk and projected a hologram of the area around Khoonda. "Okay," said Meetra. "Bao-Dur here is a former Republic combat engineer; I'd like to hear his thoughts on the defense."

The Zabrak walked around the hologram for about two minutes, taking a careful look before speaking. "The ridge to the north is too rough for them to get over in any serious numbers, but we might see small groups of infantry harassing us from that side. The south is blocked by steep hills-the only way through is a pass south of Khoonda. If they want to use it, they'll have to take an extra day to go around. The creek to the west is too shallow to block them, but it'll slow them down. The main action will be defending the approach from the plains to the east, through the saddle in the hills. Now, what do we have to work with?"

"There are three light cannon turrets around the perimeter-one to the east and two to the west," said Zherron. "There are twenty-four men in the militia, including me and Berun; we have blaster rifles and medium armor. I have four heavy war droids and three heavy repeaters with generators and tripods, Republic surplus. That's all, and it's not much. A lot of the farmers around here are veterans-we should see if any of them would be willing to join up, help in the fight. You should try the salvagers, too."

Meetra nodded, then looked thoughtful. "You said you blasted the kinrath caves shut. Do you have any explosives in storage?"

Zherron brightened. "Yes we do, a little over a hundred kilos, but it's for mining and demolitions, not military grade."

Meetra snapped her fingers at Mira, who stepped forward. "I can make about four dozen barrel mines, if you can get me the rest of the components." She began ticking off on her fingers. "I'll need a hundred liters of flammable liquid, like fuel or alcohol, fifty large cylindrical containers-cargo cylinders or sections of drainage pipe will do-and about twenty tons of rocks, gravel, and scrap metal. Detonators, I'll take care of myself. We can also use bamboo from the Enclave to make sharpened stakes; they're simple, but effective."

"I'll have Berun get it together," Zherron said. He crossed his arms. "There were a couple of new buildings going up, so we've got plenty of construction materials for fortifications. I suppose we could build a barricade in the saddle, and try to defend the chokepoint."

Meetra shook her head. "We'd be too exposed-they have mortars, they'd blast the position to pieces. We can't use the rooftop either, for the same reason." She eyed the saddle. "The ground rises sharply to the gap on their side, and descends much more gently on our side." Meetra looked at Bao-Dur. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The Zabrak nodded. "Reverse-slope defense." He began typing, altering the hologram. "We dig in on the downslope, with the repeaters in strongpoints here, here, and here. They won't be able to see our entrenchments until they come over the crest; that will limit their ability to adjust the mortars onto our position. We can force them to attack a fortified position over bare ground. One or two good marksmen should be detailed to pick off anyone spotting for the mortars." He rubbed his chin. "The war droids are too large to shelter in the trenches, so let's put them on the west side. We should also blow the bridge across the creek and plant stakes on the bank to slow their advance."

HK-47 spoke up sharply. "Interjection: Master, I believe demolishing the bridge is unwise. Please allow me to explain my reasoning."

Meetra frowned, but nodded. "Go ahead, HK."

"Explanation: The mercenaries are no fools," HK said. "If there is too much visible obstruction, Azkul may consider the creek to be too great an obstacle, and forego attacking from that direction completely. Warning: Less than half of the equipment in the depot was destroyed beyond repair; the rest is salvageable. We did almost no damage to the battle droids. If Azkul concentrates his attack on the east side, the defenders there will be at a numerical disadvantage of more than thirty to one. Addendum: That disadvantage would be further increased by small attacks from the north and west, forcing us to commit at least some forces to defend the flanks. I calculate that if Azkul mounts one massive assault from the east, the defenders will be overrun by sheer weight of numbers. It is to our advantage that Azkul chooses to divide his forces. Theory: The bridge is duracrete; if it remains intact, Azkul may believe that it is too well-built for us to demolish, and represents a weak point in our defenses. It follows that he would send additional forces to attack by that route. Troops on the bridge could avoid the spikes, but will be vulnerable to enfilading fire. The western approach can be held solely by the heavy war droids, with support from myself, G0-T0, and T3-M4. T3 can interface with the _Ebon Hawk_ 's weapons system; he could do the same with the turrets here. G0-T0 can similarly control the four war droids, coordinating their fire and increasing their combat effectiveness."

Bao-Dur nodded. "Fair enough; what do you suggest?"

HK extended a computer probe from one of his fingers and plugged in to the desk. New symbols began to appear on the hologram. "Strategy: Vehicular obstructions and explosive traps should be sited in the plains on the far side of the creek. This will keep the enemy armor at standoff range, and thin out the infantry. The turrets should focus on this area, with enemy vehicles and crew-served weapons as priority targets. In addition to planting stakes at the creek's edge, site additional stakes in the creek bed itself, where the attackers will not know of the danger until it is too late. The war droids are heavily armored and shielded; they do not need cover. They will be deployed in the open ground between the creek and the building, to engage any attackers who make it past the turret fire. I will construct a fighting position where I can cover the bridge and support the war droids. Conclusion: If defended properly, the western approach to Khoonda is a kill-zone. Azkul should be baited to commit a sizeable portion of his forces to assault into the teeth of the defense, taking some of the pressure off the east side."

"That's good thinking, HK," said Meetra, nodding approvingly. "Still, we should send some Jedi to the west side, in case the mercs manage to gain a foothold on our side of the creek. Atton, Handmaiden, that's you two." They nodded; Meetra turned back to the map. "Zherron, get your people to work fortifying; Bao-Dur is in charge of laying out the defense lines. Mira, start assembling explosives as soon as you have materials; have Atton help you. I'll take a group to the Enclave to cut bamboo for stakes and talk to the salvagers. There's lots of work to be done. Let's get started."

As Meetra left the building, Mical turned to her. "I need to speak with you privately, Jedi." Meetra nodded; the two stepped aside. Mical licked his lips. "I have not been honest with you."

"Your position at the museum is a cover; you are an agent of Republic Intelligence." Meetra laughed at Mical's dumbfounded expression. "You didn't slip up. I worked with Intelligence agents during the Mandalorian Wars; I recognized the way you jammed the lock on the library door. Republic Intelligence contacted me a couple of months ago, and I've been expecting another agent to show up ever since I left Telos."

Mical lowered his head. "I want to make it clear that I was not tracking you specifically. I was looking for _any_ Jedi activity at the Enclave." He glanced over at the eastern field, where Bao-Dur was showing a tractor where to dig. "I contacted my handler and asked for help, but I don't know if they have any to send."

"If they can get help here in time, that's great," said Meetra. "But we need to prepare to hold Khoonda by ourselves. We've got a lot of work to do, and not much time."

* * *

Meetra sent G0-T0 north, to keep the mercenary camp under surveillance. She then borrowed a cargo speeder from one of the local farmers and headed back to the Enclave with Visas, Handmaiden, Kreia, and Mical. In an hour or so, they had harvested several hundred bamboo poles, which would be cut into thousands of meter-long stakes. They loaded the speeder and headed for the salvagers' camp. When they arrived, it looked like the salvagers were sorting their belongings into heaps. Meetra walked up to Daraala. "What's going on?"

The older woman shrugged. "We have to leave before the mercenaries attack. We only have my ship, so we have to leave most of what we have behind." She sighed. "It'll be a miracle if we manage to break even."

Meetra pursed her lips. "Actually, I came here to ask for volunteers to help defend Khoonda."

"You're crazy." The speaker was a young woman with a full rucksack. "Azkul has hundreds of men and droids."

"Taepalae is right." Jorran walked up, and the other salvagers were drifting over to listen. "Even if the militia can win the battle, the Enclave and Garang are picked clean. I'm grateful to you, Jedi, but there's no way for us to make a living here anymore."

"Yes, there is." Meetra reached into her belt pouch and came up with a small sack. "These are crystals from the caves nearby. Only a small percentage of the gems are usable in lightsabers, so the Order has been leaving the rest behind for centuries." She glanced at Atton. "What's the going rate for uncut optical crystals?"

Atton shrugged. "It varies depending on size, shape, and quality, runs from fifty credits per kilo to over four hundred."

Meetra turned back to the salvagers, who were eyeing the pouch with interest. "This is what I offer you: the chance to stop running from system to system, barely scraping by. The chance to build something, to have a new start right here. Khoonda is a new beginning for this world. There will be farming and mining, new cities rising out of the ruins." She tucked the bag back into her belt pouch and snapped the flap shut. "But it can only happen if this mercenary assault is stopped. Whoever hired Azkul wants the system for themselves. The people who live here are to be killed, enslaved, or sent away as refugees." Meetra shrugged. "Maybe you can live with that, but I can't. If any of you change your minds, we'll be setting up defenses at Khoonda." She walked away, shaking her head.

Meetra drove the cargo speeder back to Khoonda, where she was shocked to see a large crowd outside the front door. Most wore some form of work clothes; they were carrying blasters, swords, even knives and clubs. Adare was standing in the doorway, trying to calm the crowd. The mob wasn't letting her speak, they were talking angrily, all at once, shaking their fists at the Administrator.

Someone turned, and saw Meetra. "There she is!" Meetra recognized Dillan. "You damned Jedi brought another attack to our door! Well, we won't have it. If the mercenaries want you, then they can have you!" The crowd of civilians murmured agreement, edging toward Meetra. They were right on the edge of rushing her, but nobody wanted to go first.

"We will not be dictated to by bandits and renegades," Adare said firmly. "The militia _will_ make a stand against Azkul's forces. Those of you who can leave the area before the fighting begins are encouraged to do so. The rest of you can take shelter in the cellar until the battle is over. Of course, if any of you are willing to stand and fight alongside us, we would be grateful for your help."

Dillan snorted. "After they left us all to die when Malak came?" She glared at Meetra. "Why should we fight for them?"

"This isn't about the Jedi, it never was." Zherron strode out of the door from behind Adare; he glared at Dillan. "I've had an informant in Azkul's camp for over a year now; he was planning this attack for months… _before_ the Jedi came back. You want to make a deal with the mercenaries, buy them off, and avoid a battle at any cost. But there isn't any getting along with Azkul, he's out for blood and taking the place over."

"I'm with you." A brown-haired, middle-aged man stepped out of the crowd and joined Zherron. "I'm not a violent man. I've had my share of it in the war. I sincerely hoped I could just hang my blaster rifle on the wall as a souvenir for my grandchildren." He shook his head. "But I've seen this before, and I know what we have to do, if we want to keep what we've built here. Dantooine is my home, and I'll fight to keep it safe."

"Thank you, Suulru." Adare shook the veteran's hand, then turned back to face the crowd. "Will anyone else stand with the militia?"

"We will." A dozen or so salvagers were coming across the bridge. Daraala was leading the group, and Meetra spotted Jorran and Taepalae as well. The group came to a halt in front of Adare; Daraala crossed her arms. "We want exclusive mining rights in the caves, and land set aside to build our homes on."

Adare smiled gratefully, shook Daraala's hand, and then turned to Meetra. "I need to get the shelter organized. Good luck, Jedi, and thank you."

* * *

In the end, seventeen of the local civilians decided to fight-including Dillan, to Meetra's surprise. Everyone had a rifle or carbine; those who hadn't brought their own were issued one, even Meetra's students. Zherron put everyone to work constructing defenses. Soon, a line of militia were digging trenches on the east side with picks and shovels. The civilian volunteers filled sandbags with the freshly turned earth, then piled them up for use in the earthworks. A four-man crew took the tractor out into the plains to the east and west, cutting down trees and dragging away boulders which the mercenaries could use for cover. With the trench roughed out, Bao-Dur went to work turning a hole in the ground into an actual fortification. First, he sliced the felled trees into sturdy beams, which he laid across the trench at two-meter intervals. He used plasteel panels to build a roof over the trench, which he covered with sandbags to protect against shell fragments and deflect grenades. More sandbags were piled in the opening between the roof and the ground, leaving shooting slits for the defenders to fire out. The next step was building pillboxes for the repeaters; one was set up at each end of the line and one in the center. Daraala's salvagers built a second defensive trench on the north side of the compound; they would watch the ridge and help Vrook protect the cellar door.

Berun and the salvagers took the cargo speeder to the ruins of Garang, the old capital city, to scrounge for materials. They returned with everything Mira needed to make her mines, along with several dozen durasteel beams. Bao-Dur and T3 cut them into two-meter sections, then welded three pieces at right angles to make 'hedgehog' anti-vehicle obstacles. HK constructed several fighting holes on the west side. From there, he could cover the western field, bridge, and the creek; Atton and Handmaiden could also take shelter if they came under heavy fire. The hedgehogs were placed in a double line about half a kilometer from the creek. Enemy vehicles wouldn't be able to approach any closer unless the mercs could move one or two of them out of the way. The area between the hedgehogs and the creek was flat and open, with no cover from the turrets.

Mira was able to build more than fifty barrel mines. Each consisted of a cylindrical container with one end sealed, packed with a two-kilogram explosive charge and a small pouch of thickened fuel, behind a payload of rocks and metal scrap. When set off, the traps would hurl burning shrapnel more than 200 meters in a wide arc. Each one was buried at an angle, with the open end pointing towards a likely avenue of approach, and carefully concealed with grass and scrub brush. The remote detonators fed into the control console for the turrets; T3 would trigger them from his position. Another group of volunteers planted the bamboo stakes; soon the creek was bristling with spikes. More stakes were lashed crosswise to wooden beams, forming spiked barricades. They lay flat, but when flipped over, they would present a row of spikes. The militia set the barricades up on the slope, where they could be raised into position quickly, to slow the mercs' advance.

The mercs had a huge advantage; at some point, the defenders would likely have to fall back and fight from inside the building. Atton and Berun built barricades out of furniture in the front hall and garage. The militia could use them for cover and hit any mercs trying to force their way inside. They left enough room for a Jedi or two to make a stand in the open floor in front of the barricades. The final step was building a sandbag wall in the saddle. Meetra and a small group of defenders would make their initial stand there, to make it appear that they were trying to hold the mercs there. When the attack started, the militia would pretend to be routed and run back towards the trenches. More militia would set up the spiked barricades after Meetra's group ran past. Hopefully, the mercs would take the bait and charge over the crest and into the repeaters' field of fire. Around lunchtime on the third day, G0-T0 reported that the mercs had gotten their remaining equipment out of the armory, and would be ready to attack sometime late that night. Bao-Dur guessed that the assault would begin a little after dawn, so that the sun would be in the eyes of the defenders on the east side. Meetra, Zherron, and Bao-Dur spent the rest of the day making sure the defenders knew their places. With nothing else to be done, Zherron posted sentries and they all headed inside to eat and rest.

It was late in the evening, and the _Ebon Hawk_ was quiet. Mira, Visas and Kreia were already asleep; Mical and Bao-Dur were standing watch. Meetra was staying at the militia command post in Khoonda, and would be there until the battle was over. Atton was dozing in his bunk when he heard a soft knock at the door. Brianna walked in. "I didn't want to be alone."

Atton cocked his head curiously. "Nervous?"

She shook her head. "I am not afraid. I believe in Master Meetra's cause, and I would be proud to die in her service. Perhaps I am to die tomorrow, or perhaps in my bed, a hundred years from now." Brianna crossed the room and sat down next to Atton, laying her head on his shoulder. "Either way, Atton, this is where I want to be tonight."

They spent the night curled up together in Atton's bunk. He woke first, then kissed her on the forehead. "Atton Rand."

She yawned, confused. "What?"

He grinned. "Atton is my real name, Brianna. I was fifteen when I enlisted-too young to join legally. I did some slicing, erased my personal records, and created a false identity: Jaq Dran." He shook his head. "Black Jaq was a Sith assassin, but he's dead. I'm Atton Rand, and glad of it."

Brianna beamed and kissed him. "Pleased to meet you, Atton Rand." She stood. "We should go-it's time for us to relieve the people on watch." Atton nodded, and they left the ship together.

* * *

 **A/N: Some of you will recognize the confrontation with Azkul. It's my little homage to the greatest Western movie of all time. The 'barrel mines' are a type of real-world IED called a fougasse, which has been in use in various forms for more than three hundred years.**


	27. Dantooine, part four

**Discalimer: I make no claim on ownership of the KotOR universe, and I do not profit from this fanfic.**

* * *

The sky was just beginning to lighten as Handmaiden and Atton dropped into one of the fighting holes on the west side. Two militiamen nodded greeting and headed inside to sleep. HK was in the next hole over, watching the field beyond the creek. "Report: no enemy detected as of yet. Approximately three hours to dawn."

It was a long, nervous wait for the defenders of Khoonda. Half an hour before dawn, G0-T0 sent word that the mercenaries had begun to move. He then broke contact and headed back for Khoonda at top speed, arriving ten minutes later. Meetra sent him into the control room with T3, where he took command of the war droids. The three-legged machines lumbered into position on the west side. The defenders gathered inside the trench line on the east side for assignment. Meetra looked them over. They were an odd lot, armed with a jumble of weapons and equipped with everything from Republic gear to pieces of scavenged Sith armor. They milled around nervously, gripping their weapons and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Meetra took a deep breath. "There is something I think you all should know." She drew on the Force and jumped up on top of the center pillbox; everyone turned to look up at her. "Dantooine is _my_ home, too. I was two years old when I first arrived at the Enclave. I grew up here; as a youngling, I played and trained in the plains and woods around Garang. I've seen the strength of the people here, the way you stay strong, no matter the challenge. I watched you rebuild when the quake hit Garang, saw you replant after the Summer of Storms." She lowered her head. "But I wasn't here when Malak attacked. I'm sorry for that, sorry the Jedi weren't here when you needed us the most. But we're here _now_. I see another challenge facing Khoonda, and I see her people ready to face it. This time, we will face it with you." Meetra ignited her sabers and raised them overhead. "Dantooine is my _home_ , and I'm not giving it up without a fight!"

There was a terrible pause, and then someone shouted. More and more joined in, until the crowd was roaring to the heavens. Zherron stepped in front of Meetra. "All right, you all know your jobs. Everyone get to your positions." The militia ran to the trenches; Meetra, Mira, and a small force walked up to the saddle. They reached the crest as the sky grew lighter. As the sun edged into view above the hills, the first group of mercenaries appeared in the distance.

* * *

Meetra raised a pair of macrobinoculars to her eyes. Mercs were setting up mortars at the far edge of the field, just outside the trees. She scanned the treeline itself; more troops and vehicles were visible in the forest, but they were too well camouflaged for her to tell exactly what they were. Meetra swung the macros back and stopped suddenly. Azkul was looking right back from a command post just inside the trees. Meetra smiled slightly. _Too bad HK-47 is on the other side; he could pick the bastard off right here._ Azkul turned to one of his lieutenants and nodded curtly. A mixed column of organic and droid infantry marched out of the treeline, followed by a pair of recon speeders. The light vehicles carried a driver and observer in the cab, with a gunner manning the light repeater in back. The speeders spread out onto the flanks of the formation; the gunners brought their repeaters to bear on the militia, who shifted uneasily.

"Steady, now." Meetra keyed her comm. "Zherron, the shooting will be starting momentarily. Make sure your men are ready to place the barricades. Atton, anything on the west side?"

"We don't see anything over here, Master," Atton replied. "But HK can hear repulsorlifts in the distance. I'll alert you if anything changes. Good luck."

Meetra took a deep breath and addressed her people. "All right, then. We open fire at a thousand meters; any further and you won't hit anything. Expect them to rush the last twenty meters to get in range. Don't fall back until they throw some heavy stuff our way. We need to draw them in. Retreat too early, and they will know something's up."

The defenders in the saddle brought their rifles up and picked out targets. Out in the field, there were a few small explosions. The front line of mercs hit the ground, then got up and advanced confidently. Meetra glanced at Mira, who grinned. "Flash mines. Farmers use them to scare off iriaz and other pests, but they're pretty much harmless. I want them to think that's all we have by way of traps."

The mercs spread out into a skirmish line as they approached the thousand-meter mark. As Meetra expected, the front rank dashed forward, dropped prone, and began firing. Meetra held up her hand. "Wait…" A group of droids marched past the prone mercs, firing from the hip. Meetra dropped her hand. " _Fire!_ "

The militia volley-fired, then began picking out targets. At least fifteen droids fell in the opening moments of the battle, but more kept advancing as the mercs continued shooting from the ground. Another wave of droids left the treeline, moving up to reinforce the infantry in the open. They were 700 meters away when T3 set off the first group of barrel mines. There were several loud blasts, and the mercs were shredded by jagged metal and burning rocks. The droids took far less damage, and continued to advance. Suulru brought his rifle up and dropped a pair of droids with one shot each. The first line of droids had taken losses, but there were still at least twenty against Meetra's squad, with more behind them. It was time to do some damage. Meetra vaulted over the barricade and sprinted into the field, drawing her sabers. The droids targeted her, but Meetra sent their bolts right back at them. A moment more and she was in among them, whirling and slashing. The recon speeders accelerated towards the saddle; both gunners engaged Meetra. She couldn't deal with that much fire at once, so she retreated towards cover. Mira popped up and launched a rocket, blasting one of the speeders apart.

There was a lull in the fighting as the mercenaries retreated about half a kilometer and began trying to pick off the militia. There were several dull thuds in rapid succession; mortar rounds began exploding near the barricade. The mercs moved in, firing as they came. The speeder zoomed in ahead of them and began blazing away with its repeater. Behind the barricade, Meetra made a hand signal. Suulru turned and ran, and the militia's fire slackened. The mercenaries shouted and charged, with the droids following behind them. The militia fell back in ones and twos. Meetra and Mira were the last to retreat; Mira threw smoke grenades to screen them. Another set of mines was built into the barricade; they detonated with a thundering roar as the infantry reached the saddle. Meetra waved as she and Mira ran down the slope, and more militiamen set up the spiked barricades as they went by, then ran for the defense line. They ran around behind the pillboxes and headed into the trenches. Everyone ran to a shooting slit and took aim at the saddle, waiting for targets.

They didn't have long to wait. Less than a minute later, the merc infantry burst out of the smoke, running hard downhill. They saw the barricades and tried to stop, but the first line of stakes was less than five meters from the smoke screen. Some mercs ran right onto the spikes, others tripped and fell; they all piled up on the barricade. Meetra shouted an order, and the repeaters opened up, ripping through the fallen mercs. A few managed to disentangle themselves and retreat. The second speeder appeared at the top of the saddle and stopped, revving its engines to blow away the smoke. The droids came over the crest and advanced on the defense line. The speeder's gunner fired at the trench, trying to suppress the pillboxes. The mortars fired another barrage, but they weren't even close. T3 shot back with the eastern turret, destroying the speeder. The militia engaged the droids with repeaters and rifle fire; none got closer than a hundred meters.

Meetra blew out a breath. "That's it for the first wave. We got them pretty quick; if we're lucky, Azkul doesn't know the layout of our defenses yet." She crossed her arms. "If I were him, I'd try to recon our position, figure out what he's up against. They'll try to spot targets for those mortars. The earthworks are pretty tough, but if they manage to zero in, we'll be in bad shape."

Zherron crossed his arms. "They can't get a spotter onto either one of the hills to the east. Bare ground, we'd spot them and pick them off-I've got a marksman detailed especially to watch each hilltop."

"It'll be the northern ridge," said Bao-Dur. "There's rocks to hide in, and it provides overwatch on both of the approaches. Vrook is on the north side with a squad of Daraala's salvagers, but I'm still worried. The terrain was too rocky for us to plant traps, and a spotter might be able to observe without being seen."

"You want to send a patrol up there, just to check," Meetra said.

Bao-Dur nodded. "Just a small group. They wouldn't do recon with more than a squad, and if it's an infiltration assault, the patrol can fall back and get help from the salvagers."

"Sounds like a job for me," said Mira.

Meetra shook her head. "There is only one turret on the east side; I need you here, to deal with vehicle assaults." She turned. "Mical, Visas, with me. Captain, I need one of your people."

Zherron snapped his fingers; Berun Modrul joined Meetra's patrol. The small group climbed out of the trenches and slipped around to the north side. Meetra explained their mission to the defenders there, then headed up the ridge.

* * *

They split up: Meetra went east, Visas took the west, and Mical and Berun found a good spot in the center of the ridge, where they could watch the length of the ridge and cover either side. She picked her way cautiously along the ridge, careful to avoid making unnecessary noise. The sun was throwing long shadows from the rocks, and Meetra used them to her advantage. It took her maybe fifteen minutes to move half a kilometer, staying hidden all the while. Her comm clicked once, and Meetra raised it to her ear.

"Spotted two, west side," Berun said quietly. "They are moving to a lookout position. Visas is moving in on them." Meetra kept going; a minute or two later, Berun contacted her again. "Four coming your way, Jedi. They are splitting into pairs."

"How far apart?" Meetra asked. "Is there open ground between them?"

"They're about thirty meters apart," Berun replied. "They are set up for mutual support; the nearest pair is a hundred meters from your position. The Miraluka has circled around the two near her, and is coming up behind them."

"Master, I am in position," Visas whispered.

Meetra nodded. "All right. Wait for my signal, then take your pair out hard and fast. Berun, I'll engage the pair nearest me first, then move on to the further pair. You and Berun snipe them if they are alerted."

"Hold, hold!" Berun said urgently. "I've got two more, moving up the middle, coming right at us."

"Shooters, target the pair moving in on you," Meetra said immediately. "I'll take these four myself. Visas, we will engage as soon as they take the shot."

The first pair passed Meetra, stopping in a small clear spot about twenty meters away where they could see the eastern side of the compound. The second pair stopped only five meters from her, and set up to watch the spotters' flank. They all spun when shots rang out from Mical's position. Meetra exploded out of her hiding place and dropped the nearby pair. The spotters began bringing their blasters around, but Meetra threw her lightsabers and cut them down. The ambush was over in less than ten seconds.

Meetra looked around for more mercs; there were none. "Patrol, rally to me. I have an idea." The others gathered at Meetra's location. She knelt and retrieved a comlink from one of the dead mercs. "Azkul doesn't know we took out his spotters. Let's see if we can 'borrow' his mortars."

The dead merc was male; Berun took the comlink. Azkul was calling. "Come in! Where the frakk are my spotters?"

Berun groaned softly. "Sorry, sir. The ridge is heavily booby-trapped; I'm the only one left. I had to patch myself up, but I'm in position to watch the east and adjust fire."

"Good work, trooper," Azkul replied. "Stand by. We'll be bombarding when the next wave makes its assault. Two minutes-be ready."

"Yes, sir," said Berun. Meetra got on her own comlink and warned Zherron. From the ridge, they could see the next mercenary attack forming up. About two hundred troops and droids were massing just behind the saddle, along with two APCs and another recon speeder. The formation began moving toward the compound with the APCs in the lead. Just as the first vehicle reached the crest, they stopped. A single mortar round hit 150 meters from the trenches. It released a plume of red smoke.

"There's your marking round," said Azkul. "Call the shots-target heavy weapons."

Berun glanced at Meetra and smiled. "Fire mission, from last shot, down fifty, left five. One shot, fire." The next mortar round exploded ninety-seven meters from the trench. He keyed the comm. "From last shot, up twenty, right three. Two rounds." A pair of shells landed 122 meters from the defensive line, in the center of the slope. "Direct hit!" Berun called. "That's one repeater down."

The APCs went over the top and advanced downhill, smashing the second spiked barricade. They began firing at the pillboxes. The central position took a direct hit; the crew was killed and the repeater fell silent. The enemy pressed the center, where the militia's fire was now weakened. Several more militia were wounded by lucky shots into their shooting slits. T3 opened up with the turret, engaging the vehicles. Mira launched a rocket at the lead APC. It struck the front dead center, but only scorched the plating. She fired again; the rocket arced up into the sky, then dove down onto the thinner top armor. The vehicle was blown apart. The infantry and light speeder came over the crest and began firing on Mira's position, trying to pin her down. The second APC fired, blowing a hole in the trench roof and killing two of the militia. T3 hit the personnel carrier for damage and the vehicle slowed. The two remaining repeaters concentrated fire on the APC. They destroyed it, but they were no longer suppressing the infantry, who took the opportunity to charge.

Berun gripped his comlink tight. "From last shot, up thirty, left two, _fire for effect!_ "

The mortars began a continuous barrage. The shells landed among the charging mercenaries; the effects were horrific. Dozens of infantry fell and the survivors tried to run. A close hit flipped the speeder, and it tumbled down the slope, crushing its crew and eight more mercs in the process. The droids ignored the losses they were taking and kept coming. Zherron ordered the repeaters to hold fire and cool; the militia brought down the last of the droids with rifle fire.

"You _murglak!_ " Azkul was almost screaming into the comm. "The men are reporting the mortars came down right on top of them! Are you frelling _blind?_ "

Meetra took the comlink from Berun. "Thanks for the fire support, Azkul." She tossed the comm over her shoulder; Azkul could be heard swearing as it bounced into the bushes. "Let's get out of here." The four ran back to the compound as mortar shells blasted the ridge behind them.

* * *

Zherron was chuckling as Meetra dropped back into the trench. "I don't know how you arranged those mortars, Jedi, but we've taken out almost a quarter of their infantry already."

Meetra glanced out at the saddle. "Yeah, well, that leaves three-quarters, and now they have some idea of our defensive layout. I won't be able to trick the mortar crews again; this is going to be a close thing."

"Alert: Master, the mercenaries are advancing on the west side," called HK. "I estimate two hundred infantry with a single APC in support, range five kilometers. Addendum: Two speeder trucks have just come into view."

"I read you, HK," Meetra replied. "There's no reason to hold back. Open fire whenever you are ready."

"Statement: Understood, Master. I am engaging the enemy now." HK turned to Atton and Handmaiden, who were sheltering in another hole. "Caution: I suggest you remain in cover until the enemy reaches the creek. You should not risk yourselves while the mercenaries are at long range. T3 and I can deal with the initial phase of the assault." He brought his cannon up, resting the barrel on an X of bamboo stakes. The mercenaries were approaching at walking speed, with the APC in the lead. The trucks stopped; mercs got out and began setting up heavy weapons to support the attack. They were out of range for the turrets, but not for an assassin droid. His first shot struck a blaster cannon, wrecking it and killing one of the crew. While the meatbags were tempting targets, the prudent thing was to destroy the weapons themselves, before they could be used against him. He saw an opportunity and hit a crate of mortar shells; the explosion destroyed the mortar, crew, and one of the trucks. The second speeder truck turned sideways, so the other mortar crew could shelter behind it. HK fired into the speeder's fuel tank. It blew, but the wreck was still providing cover for the mortar crew, who started firing.

HK had no shot on the mortars, so he began picking off the infantry. The mercs recognized the threat and sped up to a fast trot. T3 began firing the western turrets as soon as there were targets in range. They mercs were taking losses but they kept coming. G0-T0 ordered the heavy droids to advance out into the field. They raised shields, waiting for the infantry to come into range. The APC reached the line of hedgehogs and dropped its ramp; three mercs climbed out and started to set up another blaster cannon. The APC fired its main gun at HK, forcing him to hunker down. The mortar kept up its fire, scattering rounds across the defenders' positions. HK poked his head back up, but was driven down by cannon fire. "Statement: Astromech, I need that armor taken out expeditiously!"

T3 trilled acknowledgement; the turrets shifted to focus fire on the APC. That took the pressure off the infantry; the merc droids used the hedgehogs for cover and began shooting while the mercs advanced towards the creek. T3 detonated another row of barrel mines, killing or wounding about twenty. The war droids opened up on the incoming attackers as they tried to cross the open ground in front of the creek; the mercs were forced to drop prone. The APC and light cannon shifted their fire to the heavy droids. They took hits, but their shields held. HK had all the opening he needed; he popped up and took out the cannon and its crew. T3's turrets finally hit home and the APC blew sky-high. HK, the turrets, and the droids all focused fire on the enemy infantry, who wavered and began falling back. The defenders' advantage was short-lived; a mortar shell landed next to one of the turrets and blew it apart. The mercs charged toward the creek. The mortar was still dropping rounds, and HK didn't have a clear shot. He watched a few shots, then took careful aim and fired. His bolt hit a mortar shell in the air, only a few meters out of the tube. The blast killed the crew and silenced the mercs' mortars for good.

There were still more than a hundred infantry rushing toward Khoonda. The mortars were out of commission, but they kept on advancing nonetheless. They threw grenades, blowing several gaps in the row of stakes on the bank. One of Azkul's men produced a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. HK fired too late; the rocket gunner took out one of the heavy droids before he was killed. The mercs splashed into the water and many screamed as they landed on the concealed spikes in the riverbed. More than half the mercs were uninjured and clambered up the bank. About forty battle droids marched across the bridge, trying to push across and flank the Khoonda droids. HK called to Atton and Handmaiden, who stood and brought up their rifles. The trio started firing on the bridge; they got two dozen before any made it across. The remaining heavy droids backed up towards the compound, firing as they retreated. The surviving mercs and droids closed in, blazing away at the defenders.

HK waved an arm in the air. "Request: Now, Jedi!"

The pair vaulted up over the rim of their fighting hole, drawing their lightsabers. The battle droids formed ranks and began firing at the Jedi. The mercs whirled to face the new threat, and the battle was joined. Handmaiden ran in, scattering the droids. Atton caught up quickly and they attacked shoulder to shoulder. G0-T0 moved the heavy droids forward, toward the enemy flank. The mercs found themselves boxed in, with the heavies on their right, Jedi in front, and their backs to a spike-filled creek. HK climbed out of his hole and moved out toward the bridge, threatening to cut off their retreat. It was suddenly too much-the mercenaries broke and ran, crossing the bridge and continuing into the field. The droids continued to fight, but were finished in short order.

Atton doused his saber and leaned against a wall. "This Jedi stuff looked so much easier when the boss was doing it!"

Handmaiden wiped the sweat off her forehead. "We'll get through this, Atton. We just need to hold on a little longer."

"Report in." Meetra was calling from the east side. "We heard the attack here; what's your situation?"

"We have driven them off for now, Master," Handmaiden replied. "The mercenaries attacked in company strength, destroying one of the heavy droids and a turret. We killed about two hundred infantry along with an armored vehicle and two trucks. The remaining force has retreated to the northwest."

"Addendum: That kill-count includes two mortars, Master," HK added. "Based on the frequency of shelling, I believe that Azkul has no more indirect-fire capability. There remains a significant mechanized threat; I estimate six to eight enemy vehicles remain, including-possibly-heavy armor."

Meetra ground her teeth. "What have we got left to handle that?"

"One of the mercs HK killed had a rocket launcher," Atton said. "I've recovered it with a couple rounds. Along with the remaining turret and HK's cannon, that should handle anything that comes to our side."

Mira tapped Meetra on the shoulder. "I have one armor-piercing rocket left, along with three high-explosive. The HE rockets won't scratch the APCs, but they'll deal with the recon speeders and trucks, no problem."

"Sounds good," said Meetra, nodding. "Everyone catch your breath, patch yourselves up, and make sure your weapons are charged. Let's see about getting that repeater back up. I have a feeling the next attack is going to be their last big push."

* * *

The repeater was still in working order, but the pillbox was blown apart, and would leave the gunner totally exposed to enemy fire. Suulru and a few others moved the weapon inside and set up a new position inside the garage, where they could cover the militia if they had to retreat into the building. Civilian volunteers got the injured militia down into the storm cellar, and brought water to the defenders on the line. Between the dead and wounded, the defenders were down to about thirty left able to fight on the east side. The next attack would probably force them to fall back. When the time came, the repeaters would fire suppression until everyone but the Jedi had retreated. There were two rows of barrel mines in front of the trench; hopefully, they would delay Azkul's assault until the gunners could get inside the building.

Everyone looked up at the loud whine of repulsorlifts. Meetra glanced at Bao-Dur, who nodded. "Here they come."

Meetra's comm chimed. "Jedi, this is Daraala. I have mercs on the ridge."

"They're here too," called Atton. "I have three APCs, a recon speeder, and about 300 infantry coming our way."

"All right." Meetra took a deep breath. "This is it. Hold out as long as you can. If you have to fall back, do so, but make sure to alert the other sectors."

The final attack truly began with about fifty mercenaries shooting down from the northern ridge. They made no attempt to rush the building; it was a harassing fire, to keep Daraala's people from reinforcing the others. The vehicles to the west spread out into a line and advanced with the infantry between them. HK-47 and the surviving turret opened fire as the mercenaries closed in. On the east, an APC and a recon speeder came over the crest and began firing on the trench. Infantry surged through the saddle and advanced on Khoonda. Mira launched her explosive rockets one after another, taking out the recon speeder and a dozen or so mercs. She loaded the AP rocket and took aim at the armored vehicle. It sideslipped to avoid a bolt from the turret, then fired back, holding still to steady the gunner's aim. Mira fired; the rocket came down on top of the engine cover and the APC blew apart. There were now several vehicle hulks and shell craters on the slope, and the mercs began using them for cover. The defenders kept shooting and the merc attack bogged down as the two sides traded fire.

Meetra ducked down from her firing slit. "North side, west side, what's your status?"

"One injured here, shot in the arm," called Daraala. "They're shooting from cover, not even trying to advance."

"West flank is holding," called Atton. "Three vehicles destroyed, and the last APC is immobilized. T3 is hammering it to pieces with the turret."

Meetra was just clicking off the comm when she heard a low rumble; it was the sound of heavy-duty repulsorlifts. Berun pointed and screamed. " _Tank!_ "

It came over the crest, turret traversing left and right. The hovertank was at least seventy tons of layered composite armor, painted with eerie 'dazzle' camouflage in black, white, and grey. Its heavy laser cannon could blast clean through Bao-Dur's fortifications, and two mercs manned repeaters atop the turret. It moved down the hill at a menacingly slow pace as the gunner picked out a target. T3 fired the eastern turret and hit the tank dead center. Nothing happened; the tank returned fire and blew the turret to pieces.

Meetra glanced at Mira, who shook her head. "Even if I had a rocket left, it would barely chip the paint on that monster."

"Right. Zherron, begin the retreat." Meetra turned to her followers. "We'll hold them off until everyone is inside; I'll take the tank."

The militia began pulling back, heading for the garage door. The repeaters sprayed the slope to suppress the enemy infantry. The crew in the right-side pillbox abandoned their post as the tank's gun swung their way. Two of them made it out in time, but the third was vaporized along with the repeater. Meetra swore; she and the other Jedi climbed out of the trenches and advanced into the field. The tank's repeater gunners began firing, slashing through the defenders as they tried to get inside. Meetra threw her lightsabers. They glanced off the tank's armor; its outer layer had a cortosis weave. Meetra cursed and took on the incoming infantry while trying to avoid the tank's repeaters.

Bao-Dur took a deep breath and ran forward, up the slope and towards the tank. The infantry began shooting, but he whirled his double-blade and deflected the bolts. The tank fired at him, but missed as he drew on the Force and leaped. Bao-Dur soared into the air, cocked his arm at the apex of his jump, then brought his durasteel fist down right on top of the turret. There was a tremendous explosion; when the smoke cleared, the Zabrak was standing in the center of a crater more than five meters in diameter. There was nothing left of the tank but fragments scattered across the hillside. The militia whooped and cheered, their morale suddenly lifted; many ran back out to try and hold the trenches. Then the comm chimed.

"Master, we need reinforcements on the west side." Handmaiden's voice was strained, and the sound of blaster fire was loud in the background. "The mercs fired ion rockets; the turret and all the heavy droids are down. HK shot down the rocket aimed at him, but the three of us can't stop them all. We're trying to fall back, but the mercenaries are pressing hard." There was a scream over the comm. "Atton is hit, he's down! We need help now, or we will be overrun!"

Meetra whirled and pointed to Bao-Dur. "You're with me, let's go!" They turned and ran towards the garage door. Behind them, a wave of battle droids came over the saddle and marched down towards Khoonda, firing from the hip. A merc threw a demo pack and blew the left-side pillbox, taking out the repeater and its crew. Mira, Visas and Kreia brought up the rear; Suulru laid down covering fire with the repeater in the garage, allowing Meetra and the others to retreat to safety. The salvagers on the north side had heard the call to fall back; they got inside the north door before the mercs could cut them off. The defenders rushed to the upstairs windows as the mercenaries surrounded the building.

Berun and Mical joined Meetra and Bao-Dur as they rushed through the halls to the entry hall on the west side. They arrived to find Handmaiden helping Atton through the door. Atton had taken two blaster shots to the left leg and Handmaiden had been lightly wounded in the side. HK-47 backed through the door, firing out at the charging mercenaries. Handmaiden set Atton down at the barricades and took cover next to him. Atton drew his holdout and Handmaiden unslung a carbine. HK, Mical, and Berun found shooting positions around the hall; everyone took aim at the door. Meetra and Bao-Dur drew their lightsabers and stood side by side in the center of the room. They didn't have long to wait. A grenade bounced off the doorframe, filling the room with dense white smoke. HK and the others at the barricade didn't dare fire for fear of hitting the Jedi. Mercs rushed into the hall, vibroblades at the ready. By the time the smoke cleared, the fight was a close-quarters melee. The shooters fired when they could, but it was mostly up to Meetra and Bao-Dur.

Another explosion shook the building. The mercs had blown a hole in the south wall, and droids were coming in behind the defenders. Meetra sent HK, Berun, and Handmaiden to hold them off. Another wave of mercenaries piled through the west door. Amongst the chaos, Meetra found herself facing Azkul and two of his mercs. He was a skilled opponent, and had clearly crossed swords with Jedi before. She went for his head with a downward cross slash. He blocked and kicked her in the stomach. Meetra stumbled backward but was right back on the offensive with quick cuts at Azkul's lower body. He spun his double-blade and thrust toward her face. Meetra parried with her off-hand saber and slashed with her long blade. Azkul jumped back, but she still landed a cut on his arm. He snarled and jumped up for a spinning slash. Meetra blasted a push outward, sending all three opponents flying. The mercs hit the wall and crumpled, but Azkul flipped and landed on his feet. He smiled nastily and threw a concussion grenade at Meetra's feet. Bao-Dur shouted a warning, grabbed the grenade, and tried to toss it clear. It detonated less than a meter from his hand; the blast threw both of them against the wall. Meetra tried to get up, but couldn't.

Azkul laughed. "You're finished, Jedi." He and his henchmen raised their blasters to finish her off.

Mical jumped over the barricade, drawing a silvery-green lightsaber from an inside pocket. He deflected the mercs' shots, taking out Azkul's henchmen. Azkul snarled and attacked. Mical blocked, but was driven backwards by his much heavier opponent. He shifted his feet into a strong foundation and pushed back. Azkul went on the offensive with a flurry of fast slashes. Mical stopped every attack with quick, efficient movements, refusing to let Azkul get past him. Azkul feinted, then spun back to slash for Mical's throat. Mical kicked low as Azkul took a step, throwing him off balance. He exploded forward, hammering on Azkul's guard to keep him from regaining the initiative. Azkul raised his double-blade to stop a diagonal slash. Mical changed the angle of his attack and cut Azkul clean in half. Another wave of mercs came through the door. They saw the lightsaber and their leader's body, then broke and ran. Mical doused his saber and turned to check on the others.

Atton glanced at Bao-Dur. "Did you know he was a Jedi?"

"Nope," replied the Zabrak. "You surprised?"

Atton chuckled. "Nope."

Mical crouched down in front of Meetra and began healing her. "Are you all right? Stay with me, help is coming."

Meetra struggled to glower at him. The room was spinning, and she was seeing stars. "You and I are going to… have a… talk…" Her head dropped and Meetra passed out.

* * *

 **A/N: I love writing battle scenes, and I've been looking forward to this fight, to do a proper World War II defensive stand. Did you enjoy it? Leave a review!**


	28. Dantooine, part five

**Disclaimer: KotOR is the result of work by hundreds of skilled writers, artists, game designers, and programmers, none of whom are me.**

* * *

The smell of kolto greeted Meetra as she slowly returned to consciousness. She opened her eyes to find herself in a bedroom on Khoonda's upper level. Her head throbbed; she reached up to find that a section had been shaved to make room for a kolto patch.

"Sorry about that." Berun was sitting in a chair near the door; he stood and walked over. "You have a bad concussion and a linear skull fracture." He indicated a pitcher of water on the bedside table; Meetra nodded and Berun poured her a glass. "You've been out for about ten hours. The mercenaries routed when Azkul was killed. We suffered eleven killed and twenty wounded, some seriously. Your people are all alive. Atton has a third-degree burn on his left thigh. Bao-Dur has three fractured ribs. Handmaiden has a cut on her torso, and Visas was slashed across the forearm. They're all healing nicely, and should be up and around by tomorrow morning."

Meetra drained the glass. "Thanks." She swung her legs out of the bed. "I need to see my people, and talk to the Administrator."

Berun nodded. "Atton and Bao-Dur are in the next room. The other members of your crew are outside, helping with cleanup. Administrator Adare is waiting for you in her office, along with Captain Zherron and Master Vrook."

Atton and Bao-Dur were both asleep, so Meetra let them rest and headed downstairs. Adare stood up from behind her desk. "Thank you so much for your aid. You can be sure that Dantooine will not forget how the Jedi protected us from this threat."

"I am happy to help," said Meetra.

"Khoonda has been battered, but we will rebuild," Adare continued. "And I will see to it that Dantooine always remembers the Jedi who stood by us in our hour of need."

Meetra smiled. "Thank you, Administrator."

Adare nodded. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have much work to do. I believe Vrook wishes to speak with you." She and Zherron took their leave.

Vrook had been silent through the entire conversation, leaning against a wall with his arms folded. He walked up to Meetra. "Khoonda is safe in no small part due to you. I feel certain that the Administrator wouldn't have made it without your assistance. I may have misjudged you. In any case, I am free to talk about whatever you wish."

Meetra tapped her fingertips together. "Do you know what is going on?"

"We are at war," Vrook answered, "but it is unlike any war we have fought before-we have yet to even meet our attackers in battle. Somehow, our enemy is targeting us through the Force, striking, then retreating to the shadows. The gathering of any Jedi seems to attract them like a beacon. So it was necessary to divide our forces and conceal ourselves for a time until we could learn more of this threat."

"The Sith have revealed themselves," said Meetra. "They attacked me on Peragus."

Vrook frowned. "I am curious as to how they would know to find you. Your trial was not public knowledge. Regardless, these Sith have struck, and you survived-this is more knowledge than I had before. And that means the Jedi may gather. If you can find others-or find some trace of the Sith threat, then we shall gather here on Dantooine."

"Master, I…" Meetra hesitated. "I have seen the record of my trial. I know you have some idea of what happened to me. I think I deserve to know why I was cast out of the Order, and how I lost my connection to the Force."

"We told you the truth about your punishment. You defied the Council and followed Revan to war. And from that war, came another." Vrook crossed his arms, a stern expression on his face. "Do you know how many worlds were destroyed in those wars? Dantooine, Telos, Serroco? Do you see now why we counseled caution, instead of action?" He shook his head. "You were the only one to come back and face judgment. But that was because you had lost your connection to the Force-another casualty of war. No doubt you still blame us for your exile-I had hoped your isolation would give you time to reflect on what had happened, what you had done. But I see it has not." Vrook sighed. "As to your connection to the Force, the Council chose to keep that knowledge secret, and only the Council can change that decision. Gather the Jedi in hiding, and then, we shall see. In the meantime, I will return to the Enclave, to oversee the restoration."

 _Same old Vrook._ Meetra nodded. "I need to continue my mission, Master. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Meetra," Vrook replied. "I hope that in the end, you find what you are looking for." He turned and left Khoonda, heading north.

There was one more piece of business. Meetra looked around and found Mical outside, helping to clean up the Khoonda grounds. He was now wearing a brown overcloak, and carried his lightsaber openly on his belt. Meetra pulled him aside. "I've thought for some time that your face was familiar. I assumed that I had seen you somewhere, in your duties as an Intelligence agent." She smiled and shook her head. "But that's not it. I saw you here on Dantooine, at the Enclave, didn't I?"

Mical nodded. "Yes. I was taken from my family at the age of four, and raised as a Jedi youngling on Dantooine, the same path you once walked. If you are not chosen by a Master when you come of age, however… then the path of a Jedi is denied you. You instructed my clan once, briefly. You taught us the ways of combat, how to hear music within the movements of a lightsaber blade. It is difficult to explain the difference between you and Master Vrook, but I think it is because he was knowledgeable, but not a leader, not a mentor. You were different-we could all feel it. And I knew that if I were to have a Master, I would want it to be you." He sat down on a pile of sandbags. "And then you went to war. Many Jedi went to war, and the Jedi Masters proclaimed that you were Jedi no longer. Atris, the mistress of the archives, was first among them. I knew at that moment, that if you would no longer be a Jedi, then you must be correct. I realized that I did not want to be a Jedi-instead, I wished to follow your path." He fidgeted with his lightsaber. "And in any event, there was no one to train me, even if I wished it. They all went to war, as I grew past the age of acceptance."

Meetra sank down next to Mical, took his hands in hers. "So you turned away from the Jedi-the Force. Because of me?"

"Because you were right, and they were wrong," Mical replied. "And the choice was not entirely mine. With few Knights and Masters remaining behind, there were far more Initiates than could be accepted for training. The Masters were frightened-of Revan, of Malak, and of you. The Council discouraged Masters from training anyone who they thought might make the same choices you did. Thus, I was left without a Master. And so I decided to serve the Republic."

"That was why you were collecting Jedi records," said Meetra, smiling. "You were trying to train yourself."

Mical shook his head. "Not exactly. I wished to study the Jedi teachings, gather them, perhaps save enough that someone could rebuild the Order. It was important to me to understand the Jedi now that they were gone. I felt some part of you should be preserved, so that your lessons would not be lost." He unclipped his lightsaber, turning it in his hands. "My Master-the one intended for me-left to fight in the Mandalorian Wars. Now she has returned, and I ask her now if she will train me in the ways of the Force."

Meetra nodded. "I would be glad for you to join us. I expect we will all spend tomorrow resting, but then, you will be back to training." Mical nodded gratefully and returned to work. Meetra headed for the ship, trying to ignore the squirmy feeling in her stomach.

"Jedi Surik!" Meetra turned to see Dillan running up to her. She stopped in front of Meetra and paused uncomfortably. "I owe you an apology; I misjudged you badly. Please, forgive me."

"It is all right," Meetra replied. "The Order has a lot of work to do to make our mistakes right."

"Thank you for saving us. Because of you, I can have a life here now, safe and free." Dillan smiled. "And some day, I will tell my grandchildren the story: that I fought at the Battle of Khoonda, and I saw the return of the Jedi."

* * *

Khoonda had taken moderate damage from the battle; all three turrets had been destroyed and there was a three-meter hole in the south wall. It would only take a day or two to repair the building. The crews worked for most of the day. At sunset, the survivors held a memorial for the men and women who had fallen defending Khoonda. They were laid to rest side by side at the bottom of the trench; eleven of the hedgehogs were etched with names and served as grave markers. Afterwards, there was a communal meal, a combination of wake and victory party. The mood was a mix of sober remembrance of the dead and wild exultation by those glad to be alive. The contrast might seem odd, but Meetra had seen it before, after battles all across the Rim.

Just as advertised, Atton and Bao-Dur were ready to go by the morning. Meetra gathered her students-now including Mical-aboard the _Ebon Hawk_. "As you can see, Mical has joined us for training. He studied with the Order before the war, and I hope he will share his knowledge." She grinned. "Jedi history and philosophy were never my strong suit. Master Dorak had to wake me on more than one occasion." Mical looked surprised, but nodded.

Meetra folded her hands. "But, that will come later. Starting today, you will be moving to the next phase of your training. Once Padawans learn the basics, they must prove their skill before moving on to individual training with a Knight or Master. On Dantooine, that means surviving in the wilderness north of the Enclave. You must construct a shelter and sustain yourselves for two weeks. You will have only your lightsabers and a day's supply of food and water. Now, in addition to your equipment, each of you will have an emergency beacon, but if you trigger it, it had _better_ be an emergency." She saw Mira nodding and shook her head. "This would seem easy, but there are limitations. You may not use your saber to take a life. Any hunting or fishing you do must be with tools you fashion for yourselves. You must live in harmony with the land; you may not cut down trees or otherwise greatly change the landscape. You must construct a simple shelter. It may seem daunting, but the forest can provide everything you need." Meetra paused. "Now, the good news. You will be dropped into the woods individually, but you may find each other and work together." She smiled. "I suggest you take the next few hours to brush up on survival skills and get a big, solid meal. We take off at noon."

The _Ebon Hawk_ flew north for about an hour until they reached the Taikaha Hills. The landscape was fairly rugged, with a mix of broadleaf and evergreen forest. Meetra picked out a river valley, running west into a small lake, with a limestone karst ridge to the north and a gentler series of hills to the south. She used the rescue hoist to lower her students one at a time, about fifteen kilometers apart, spread out across both sides of the river. The last one to leave the ship was Mira, hitting the ground with about seven hours to nightfall. The freighter climbed away, performing a wide circle around the valley. Meetra took a last look out the window and turned the ship south.

Mira watched the _Ebon Hawk_ disappear over a ridge, took a deep breath, and looked around. She'd been set down on a slope on the north side of the valley, near the east end. Before moving, she took stock of her resources. Her overcloak was fairly thick, durable material; it would keep her warm, and shed water if it rained. She had one ration bar and two liters of water in metal bottles. It was late spring on Dantooine. The days were pleasant, but the nights were cold if you were outdoors. _Fire is a necessity-I need to stay warm and boil water to drink._ Mira took a few hours to gather wood, tying the large bundle together with vines. She paused at a small rock outcrop and picked through the loose stone at its base. Mira smiled as she found what she was looking for-a flint nodule which had eroded off the limestone mass. She pocketed the flint and hoisted the wood onto her back, keeping a sturdy branch as a walking stick. _Now, which way to go? The lake is west; lakes mean fish and water. West it is, but it'll take me more than a day to get there. I'll have to find a place to spend the night._ Mira set off west along the hillside.

She spent the next four hours hiking towards the distant lake. As the shadows grew longer, Mira started looking for a place to spend the night. She saw something move strangely in the corner of her eye and turned; it was a yellow-white light in the sky, bouncing up and down. After a moment, Mira realized what she was seeing: Atton was throwing his lightsaber in the air, like a marking flare. Mira kicked herself for not thinking of this and threw her saber, using the Force to hold it high above her. As she watched, the others did the same, their sabers flashing in the twilight. Atton was on a hillside across the valley. Handmaiden was down on the valley floor, near the river. Mical was at the lake shore. Mira was heartened to see Bao-Dur's lightsaber only a few kilometers away, west of her along the ridge. She waited for Visas' saber to pop up, then realized her mistake: Visas couldn't see the other lightsabers, and hadn't thought to use a visual signal. They'd have to find her the hard way. Mira waggled her saber to get everyone's attention, then spun it at an angle, forming a cone of light. She rotated it to point toward Mical's position. One by one, the others did the same. Mira tilted her saber, as if waving good-bye. The sabers dropped down. She formed another arrow, pointing toward Bao-Dur. He tossed his saber again to agree.

It was dark when Mira found Bao-Dur. He had found a fairly good place to camp; a large outcropping formed a wall with a slight overhang above a stone floor. Bao-Dur had built a lean-to from evergreen boughs, leaving a gap for smoke to escape. Smaller branches were piled as a mattress. The Zabrak had used stones to create a fireplace under the overhang, where the heat would reflect off the rock. He had a pile of tinder and was trying to light it using his lightsaber set to low-power. The pile wouldn't catch, and the wind was starting to blow. Mira dropped down next to him. "Here, let me." She pulled the flint from her belt pouch and struck it against her lightsaber hilt, showering the tinder with sparks. It took about fifteen minutes, but eventually, she had an ember. Mira carefully lifted the tinder bundle and blew on the ember, making it glow. The tinder caught, and Mira deposited the bundle into the fireplace, slowly adding dry wood. Soon, the fire was crackling merrily away. Mira warmed her hands, then spread her cloak over the pile of boughs. "There's nothing more we can do tonight. Tomorrow, we need to rendezvous with the others and pick out a more permanent campsite. With six of us, we should be able to deal with shelter and water fairly easily; food will be the problem."

Bao-Dur nodded. "It's going to be difficult, making sure everyone has what they need." The wind gusted, sending a cold draft through the shelter. Bao-Dur shivered in his sleeveless cloak and tossed another branch on the fire. "I spent so much time building the shelter, I'm not even sure I gathered enough wood to last the night."

"I brought a bundle of firewood with me." Mira grinned. "You're tired from building the shelter; why don't I take first watch? I'll keep the fire going and wake you in four hours or so."

* * *

Mical yawned, stretched, and rubbed his sore back. He'd built a crude shelter under a fallen tree; it wasn't the most comfortable, but it was fine for the night. He looked around. The shore was a gravel beach; the river emptied into the lake just south of him. _The others will be heading towards me; I should make myself easy to find._ He piled some driftwood at the water's edge, then unscrewed the focusing lens from his lightsaber and used it to start the fire. Once the wood was blazing, Mical threw on some pine boughs. Soon, a pillar of white smoke was rising into the sky, easy to see from anywhere in the valley. Mical gathered wood while he waited for the rest of the students to arrive.

There was a respectable pile of wood when Handmaiden arrived an hour later. "Good morning, Mical. Are you well?"

He nodded. "I am, thank you. How rough was your night?"

Handmaiden chuckled. "I believe there are still pine needles in my back." She crossed her arms. "I spotted Atton through a gap in the trees; I think he's a few minutes behind me. Is there any sign of the others?"

"Not yet." Mical indicated a thick stand of trees to the northeast. "Those block my view of the northern ridge, but Mira and Bao-Dur should be able to see the smoke just fine."

"We certainly could." Bao-Dur walked out of the trees and came up to the fire with Mira behind him. "Nice work, Mical."

Handmaiden smiled and pointed. "Here comes Atton."

"Hey, campers," Atton quipped, jogging up to the group. "I see the fire's lit, but it looks like we're one short. Guess we can't roast the brawballos just yet."

"I'm worried about Visas," said Mira, frowning. "I'm a good tracker, but this valley's a big place, and she could be anywhere."

Bao-Dur scratched one of his horns. "I think that's the point: it's a problem for us to solve. We can't signal Visas by any of the usual methods, because she can't see them."

"Master Meetra intends us to use our Jedi skills," said Mical. "If we get close enough, we should be able to sense Visas' presence in the Force. Then, we can search until we locate her."

Mira crossed her arms. "We should pair off; that keeps us safer in case someone gets hurt out in the woods. We'll keep to the high ground to the north and south, where we can search visually and listen in the Force. That will probably be the quickest way to find Visas." She turned to Mical. "You should stay by the fire. If she makes it to the shore on her own, you'll be able to see her. If you want to signal us, wet your overcloak, and use it to send up puffs of smoke. I think we all know flash code." The others nodded, and the group separated.

Mical sat on a rock by the fire, scanning the shoreline for movement. It had been three hours since the others left, and there had been no sign of Visas. The group had perhaps six hours to search; after that, they'd have to return to the shore to construct a shelter for the night. He sighed, seeing nothing along the water's edge in either direction. Mical took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He listened to the crackling of the fire, the water lapping at the shore. Beyond that was the life around him, vibrating with the Force. The searchers were there, on either side of the valley, making their way east. He concentrated, and felt something more, another being, down on the valley floor.

 _I am here_. Mical's eyes flew open-Visas' voice was clear in his mind. He stood and began hiking upstream. _No. Stay where you are; keep your mind open and clear, to help me see you. I will come to you._

Mical couldn't reply; he wasn't skilled enough. He settled into meditation, feeling Visas approach. It took another two hours, but he eventually heard her call his name. Mical smiled and looked up; Visas was walking along the river toward the beach. "Good day, Mical. Thank you for your help."

"Hello, there," he replied. "Let me signal the others, let them know to return here." He dunked his overcloak into the lake, then threw it over the fire. Once the smoke column ceased, Mical pulled the cloak back and forth, sending two puffs of smoke into the air. He paused, then repeated the smoke puffs. Mical continued signaling for another minute, then allowed the column of smoke to re-form, to help the others get back. He then hung his cloak on a stick near the fire to dry.

"Thank the Force, you have a fire built," Visas said gratefully. She walked up and began warming herself. "I found a soft clump of moss to sleep on, but I never learned to start a fire without an igniter." She turned to Mical. "How are the others doing?"

"We're in good shape for now," Mical said. "We've plenty of fresh water, we just need to boil it. I still have my ration bar, and I think the others do as well. That means getting a shelter built is the priority. We can start searching for food tomorrow."

Visas nodded. "Let's cut some branches while we wait for the others to return." The two headed to the edge of the forest and began harvesting boughs for use in the shelter. They had a nice pile going when the searchers came back.

"Hey, Visas," Mira called. "I'm glad you made it in without trouble."

"Mical was most helpful," Visas replied. "I could feel him looking for me, and so I used him as a beacon."

Bao-Dur looked at the sky. "We need to build a shelter. We have maybe five hours before sunset. With six people, we can fashion a fairly large structure which would fit us all."

"I've been thinking," Mical said slowly, "Master Meetra forbade us from cutting down trees. But we're free to use trees which are already fallen. I built my lean-to beneath one last night."

"That's a good idea," said Bao-Dur. "Let's spread out. I'll find a good spot to construct the shelter and start preparing the ground. I'll get another fire going, with a new smoke beacon so you know where to bring whatever you gather. Mical, Visas, collect firewood. Mira, Atton, Handmaiden, construction materials. We'll need large poles for the framework, vines for cordage, and evergreen boughs for insulation and bedding. If anyone finds food, harvest it only if you can do so quickly. Right now, a warm place to sleep is more important."

The group spread out into the forest. Bao-Dur searched for about half an hour before he found what he was looking for. There was a small rise in the ground with four tall, straight pine trees forming a rough rectangle, about two meters by five. They had branches sticking out at regular intervals, like the rungs of a ladder. Bao-Dur cut off all the branches less than three meters high. He made a pile off to the side, then used one bough as a rake, to clear the ground between the trees. He walked back to the beacon fire and retrieved the fallen tree Mical had slept under. He sliced it in half lengthwise, then cut the pieces into two long and two short beams. He set them in the trees, supported by a branch at either end, to make a rectangle which would form the roof of their new shelter. Bao-Dur returned to the fire a second time. He loaded his cloak with gravel and stones from the lakeshore, then slung it over his shoulder like a satchel. He filled one of his empty water bottles with twigs and leaves and lit it with an ember, so he could carry fire to the new shelter site. Bao-Dur dug a shallow trench in the ground under the roof frame, maybe half a meter wide, three meters long and six or eight centimeters deep. He filled it in with gravel and lined it with larger stones, making a fire pit. He got a fire going and sent up a column of smoke.

The trio gathering building materials came back first. Mira and Handmaiden were carrying branches and boughs. Atton had his cloak folded like a large sack, and was grinning from ear to ear. "We're in luck." He unfolded his cloak to reveal several coils of bright green vines with broad leaves. "This is kuz creeper; there's tons of it a little north of here. It's native to Alderaan, but you can find it all over the galaxy. The Weaving Clans are most famous for nerf wool, but they use kuz vines too, usually for rope. We can even eat the leaves, although they aren't very filling."

Mical and Visas arrived with their load of fuel, and the group went to work constructing the shelter. They leaned the larger poles against the main structure to make a double lean-to, lashed with vines. The side poles were stuck into the ground, to keep the structure strong. More branches went across the two main supports. Once the frame was in place, they started laying boughs on top, creating a roof which would keep rain out and heat in. A small gap at the peak of the roof would let smoke out. They piled boughs inside, to insulate sleepers against the chilly ground. A smaller lean-to went against one end, for storage. The other end was walled in with poles and boughs, leaving a small opening to get in and out. The resulting structure would be cramped for six people, but it would keep them warm and dry. Mira built a fire in the center trough, and they all turned in for the evening. The flickering light spilled out the door, glowing against the dark forest.

Up on the top of the northern ridge, Meetra lowered her macrobinoculars and smiled. "Good night." She walked to the swoop bike and flew south until she reached Khoonda.

Kreia was waiting inside the ship. "How are they faring?"

"Pretty well," Meetra replied, "but that's to be expected. They're adults, not teenage Padawans, and three of them have wilderness survival training. They've got a respectable shelter up and a fire going, with a ready supply of water. On the other hand, being adults, they'll need more food than kids would. It will be interesting to see how they do when hunger starts to set in a few days from now."

"Indeed it will," said Kreia, nodding. "In the meantime, your training must increase, and there are higher mysteries you must learn. Your abilities are returning, but you still have far to go if you wish to defeat the Sith in open battle. Your followers may train together, but you must walk alone. Hone your skills, reclaim that which you have lost, so that when the others are ready to follow, you are prepared to lead them."

Meetra nodded. "You're right. I intend to take advantage of this time. The others can take care of themselves. I'll look in on them in a week, see how they are doing."

"Do you think they will find it?" Kreia asked quietly.

"I hope they do." Meetra turned and looked to the northern horizon. "It was very important to me, when I did."

* * *

 **A/N: I've decided to have Mical simply remember his old training, and so join the group as a Jedi. He was well into his teens by the time he left the Order, so he would have completed the first part of Padawan training, including crafting a lightsaber.**


	29. Dantooine, part six

**Disclaimer: I didn't invent either KotOR or the training montage.**

* * *

Atton yawned and stretched. He and Handmaiden had spent the night curled up together in a corner of the shelter, with his cloak on top of the boughs and hers spread over them both. He stood up carefully to avoid disturbing her and slipped outside. The sky was just beginning to lighten above the forest; a thick mist covered the lake. Mira was already outside the shelter, digging a meter-wide circular hole with a branch. Atton walked up to her. "What can I do to help?"

Mira pointed. "Grab another load of gravel from the shore. I'm making another fire pit, for cooking. We don't have room in the shelter."

They spent the next half hour building the new fire pit. Once they had the hole filled with gravel, they gathered green branches and lashed them together to make a grill. By this time, the sun was fully over the horizon and the birds were chirping. The racket woke the others and they came out one by one. Bao-Dur's stomach growled. "So, ration bars for breakfast, but then, we need to find food. Ideas?"

Mira shrugged. "The lake is full of fish; they've been jumping all morning. We don't have a hook and line, though."

"Fish would be good, but we'd have a job catching enough for six." Mical pointed to the marshy area where the river ran into the lake. "See the cattails growing along the shore there? From what I know of Dantooine's history, the roots are a staple for the Dantari hunter-gatherers. Not as tasty as fish, but less work. We can also make tea from young, light green pine needles."

"Good idea," agreed Handmaiden. "Atton, you said the kuz leaves are edible, correct?"

Atton nodded. "Yes. Some folks on Alderaan use them as salad greens, or wrap them around meat for grilling or steaming."

"Then we'll gather some more creeper," Handmaiden said. "We'll eat the leaves, and maybe weave the vines into a net."

"I like that," said Mira. "If possible, we should also make some fishing spears. Hard to whittle with a lightsaber, though."

Mical shook his head. "Oh, no, it's not difficult. Set your blade to low-power." He drew his saber and shaved a curl off of a piece of firewood.

Mira brightened and went to work on a forked green branch left over from building the grill. "It'll take me about ten minutes to make each one. Why don't the rest of you go shopping?"

The others agreed, and they separated. Mira stayed behind to finish the spears and keep the fire going. Bao-Dur, Atton, and Handmaiden walked north to gather more kuz; Mical and Visas headed to the mouth of the river to dig for tubers. It was tough work to get through the thick leaves to the water's edge. They found digging was unnecessary: the mud was so soft that they could simply pull the tubers up by the flower stalk. They dumped the tubers into Mical's cloak and bundled the flower stalks to use as torches. Mical paused to look out over the landscape.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Visas walked up next to Mical. "The currents and flows are so much more graceful here than in a city or settlement."

"It's something else, I'll say that much." Mical shrugged. "I don't really understand what you perceive, or if it's anything like what I see and feel."

Visas shook her head. "I can't fully explain it to you, any more than you could explain color to me. I feel the Force in the same way you do, but in a second way as well." She lifted her veil and pointed to the shallow depressions in the skin of her face. "My race has specialized sensory organs in the same place as your eyes. They allow me to create an image of sorts." Visas paused, searching for the right words. "Imagine a solid object made of glass, so perfectly clear it was invisible to you. Now, imagine water pouring over the object. You still can't truly see it, but you can roughly discern its shape by the way the water flows around it. This is what I see: the Force rushing over the world, swirling and eddying as it passes."

Mical nodded. "Thank you for enlightening me."

"It is no trouble," Visas replied, lowering her veil. "There are many rumors about the Miraluka, and I understand why we make people curious." She smirked at Mical. "What makes _me_ curious is, what do you see when you look at our Master?"

"What do you mean?" asked Mical, flushing.

Visas smiled gently. "I can hear your heart race, Mical, and the slight change in your voice. Don't worry. She doesn't know, and neither do the others."

Mical's mouth flapped open and shut for a moment. He was about to respond when a rumbling crash echoed across the valley. They both spun toward the sound as they felt a disturbance in the Force.

"That's Bao-Dur, and he's in pain!" Mical scooped up the load of tubers. "Let's go!"

They scrambled back to the camp; Mira had felt it as well and was already running north. Atton and Handmaiden came out of the trees, supporting Bao-Dur between them. The Zabrak was covered in cuts and bruises and clutching his side. Mical ran up to them. "What happened?"

Atton shook his head. "There was a big dead tree being held up by kuz, and we didn't see it under the mass of vines. When he pulled out a section of creeper, it fell." He nodded at Bao-Dur. "He slowed it down, but it still landed on top on him."

Mira moistened her lips. "Should we signal for help?"

"Not yet," said Mical. "Get him back to the shelter and let me have a look at him. I have healing training, and some knowledge of Dantari herbal medicine."

They got Bao-Dur inside and laid him on the boughs. Mical waved his hands over the Zabrak, concentrating. "The cuts and bruises are superficial, no problem there. He's re-injured the ribs he fractured during the battle. Has he been coughing blood?"

"No," Bao-Dur groaned. "My breathing has been normal, it's just painful."

Mical nodded calmly. "Then it's up to you. Your lungs aren't damaged, but you will have to rest for at least three or four days while I heal you. It _will_ hurt-I can reduce the pain, but not remove it completely."

"If I can safely stay, then I'm staying," gritted Bao-Dur. "Sorry for the trouble."

Atton grinned. "Just another problem for us to solve."

"All right, then." Mical looked around the group. "Clearly, we're not fishing today. Atton, Handmaiden, go back to the kuz patch and gather vines-carefully. Visas, take an ember to the cooking pit, get a fire going, and roast the cattail tubers in the coals. Mira, find a willow tree and peel bark from the young branches. Some pine needles for tea would be good too."

The others left the shelter as Mical began healing Bao-Dur; they returned in an hour or so. Mical instructed Bao-Dur to chew the willow bark, then hold it between his cheek and his gum. It lessened the pain in between healing sessions. Visas had roasted and peeled the cattail tubers; they were tough, starchy, and bland, but they were filling and there were plenty to go around. As the sun set across the lake, the group sat around the cooking pit, weaving the vines into nets and carving fishing spears. They crawled into the shelter, huddling together against a cold wind from the east.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was kuz leaves and more cattail tubers. The first order of business was finishing the nets. They attached them to forked branches to make a sort of long-handled scoop. Mical gave Bao-Dur some more healing, then they left him to rest and headed for the shore. Mira found a likely spot, with weeds growing up through the water near a small inlet. She had Atton, Handmaiden, and Mical line up along the shore next to her, nets at the ready. Mira dug up a few grubs and skewered one on a small twig tied to a length of kuz. She handed the line to Visas. "We can't hook fish, but we can bait them. Pull the line in slowly, and twitch it some."

Visas began working the bait, dragging it slowly through the weeds. Mira watched the bait carefully. "Easy, now. There's a fish chasing it. Pull a little faster, we don't want him to actually take the bait."

The fish had left the weed bed and was heading towards Mical. He had his net in the water and was edging it forward, trying to slide it under the fish. Mira raised her spear, a meter-and-a-half pole with three barbed points. "Hold it there, Visas. Mical, whenever you're ready."

Mical gripped his net handle tight and heaved upward. He brought the net up beneath the fish and hauled it out of the water. The green-brown fish flopped around violently and bounced out of the net. Atton lunged to catch it and would have gone in the water if Handmaiden hadn't grabbed his belt. The fish splashed into the lake, but Mira skewered it before it could swim away. She grinned, ran a piece of kuz through its gills, and hung the fish from a tree. "Nicely done. Let's get some more!"

Mira broke two spears trying to catch fish, but in the end, they caught four big trout and a dozen or so smaller fish. They also found crawfish crawling across the bottom, and clams dug into the mud. Mira marked the location of the clam bed for later, and decided to fashion cage traps for the crawfish. The fish tasted wonderful after days of roots and rations. They ate well for the next few days and settled into a routine, leaving camp in pairs to fish, gather firewood, and dig for tubers. Bao-Dur healed well with Mical's help; three days after his injury, he was up and around. That was when the food started to run out. Fish were avoiding the shoreline near the shelter. The crawfish and clams were all gone, and they couldn't take any more cattails without damaging the patches of reeds, which would violate Meetra's instructions. They went farther and farther out, looking for food. There was little to find-they had simply depleted the local area. Nine days after they had been dropped into the valley, Meetra's students sat around the fire, eating the last of the cattail tubers.

"We need to do something, and soon," said Handmaiden. "I know we won't starve in five days, but Master Meetra put us here as a test. We are meant to work together and use what we've learned to deal with the challenges we come up against, not just huddle together and try to wait it out."

Mira nodded. "I agree. I've been thinking-I saw iriaz yesterday. They were grazing in a meadow on the south shore of the lake, about five klicks from here."

"And you want to hunt one," Mical said slowly.

Mira shrugged. "It'd be about thirty kilos of meat, enough to feed us for the rest of the week. We can't use our lightsabers, so we'd have to make spears or clubs. We could try to separate one from the herd, surround it."

"I dunno," said Atton, shaking his head. "It'd take a lot of work to hunt something that big. If they get away, we'll have burned up all our energy reserves, and be in real trouble."

"Then we had best not let it escape." Visas nodded toward the Echani. "You are correct, Handmaiden. Our Master wishes us to apply our skills, and that means risking failure."

Bao-Dur smiled. "I've been craving some red meat anyway. Let's do it."

The next morning was spent making larger weapons, to bring down iriaz. They made several simple spears, heavy enough to throw, with fire-hardened points. Handmaiden and Bao-Dur both fashioned stone clubs, and the Iridonian gathered several large, round stones to throw. They also needed camouflage, so they tied grass and leaves to their cloaks. In the late afternoon, they headed out to the meadow. Mira climbed a tree where she could watch the trail the herd used. The others found hiding places and used mud to try and cover their scent. They settled down to wait.

As the shadows lengthened, everyone's eyes were on Mira. She sat on a large branch, nearly invisible unless you knew where to look. They had been waiting five hours when she slowly raised her hand. Mira made a series of hand signals, indicating that seven iriaz were coming down the path. Everyone kept still as the green antelope-like animals trotted out of the forest. They went to the water's edge to drink. They were certainly wary; the iriaz grazed and drank in shifts, with two always watching for danger. Mira indicated one of the creatures and the others began moving silently into position. Bao-Dur hefted a rock in his left hand and nodded. Mira clicked her tongue; the iriaz raised their heads and froze. Bao-Dur threw the rock, but his target ducked at the last second.

The stone made a loud thud as it struck a tree trunk and the herd scattered. Everyone ran in at the iriaz, trying to cut one off. Three dashed past Mical and Visas, heading along the shoreline to the west. The rest ran for the woods. Mira jumped down, forcing one iriaz to veer away from the trees and turn east. Bao-Dur leaped to head it off, but the fleet-footed creature ran right past him. Handmaiden dashed after it, drawing on the Force. Her arms and legs were pumping too fast to see as she sprinted flat out. The iriaz turned south for the forest, but Handmaiden took a good angle and ran it down. She caught it in the legs with her club and the iriaz tumbled. Handmaiden finished it off with a blow to the head. She dropped to the ground, completely exhausted.

Atton ran up to her, cheering. "That was amazing!"

"Even during the war, I've never seen a Jedi run like that," said Bao-Dur. He hefted the iriaz up onto his shoulder. "Let's get this back to camp. We're having steak for dinner."

Mira dressed the carcass. They roasted some of the meat on the grill; the rest was cut into strips and hung in the smoke, to dry and preserve it. They ate heartily, laughing and joking with relief.

* * *

With their food supply taken care of, there was little for the students to do. They spent the next few days training and meditating while they waited for the second week to end. During the early afternoon on the twelfth day, the wind picked up out of the west. A gust blew in off the lake, whipping spray into the air.

Mical scanned the sky, looking worried. "I don't like this. We may have one more problem to solve." Birds began calling noisily; flocks swooped in and began landing in the trees. He pointed across the lake. "There, see?"

Clouds were rolling in from the western horizon. They were a dirty grey, tinged with blue-green. Flickers of lightning were visible, and rain darkened the sky beneath the storm. Mical turned to the others. "Thunderstorms are nasty here, this time of year-there will be heavy rain, powerful winds, and hail bigger than your fist. Our lean-to isn't good enough, we need to find sturdy shelter."

Mira pointed north. "The ridge is our best bet. Limestone gets worn pretty easily. There might be an overhang we can get underneath."

"Right." Mical stroked his chin. "That weather will be on us in two or three hours. We need to take the food and as much firewood as we can. There's nothing we can do about the shelter, though. The storm will probably pound it to pieces."

The group went to work. Atton, Mira and Handmaiden bundled dry wood to carry with them. Mical and Visas packed the smoked iriaz and Bao-Dur made another fire bottle. They left their camp, headed north towards the ridge. There was a peal of thunder in the distance. Rain began to fall, big drops that hit with a splat. The sky grew suddenly dark, the wind howled through the valley, and the clouds flickered with lightning. They were moving through the forest when the hail started. At first, it was just pebble-sized, largely deflected by the foliage. Then the hailstones started getting bigger. They reached the treeline at the base of the ridge and hesitated before stepping into the open. They struggled up the slope, shielding their heads. A five-centimeter chunk of ice hit Mira in the back; she swore and kept moving. They reached the rock face and began fumbling along it in the dark. There was a slight overhang, which grew more pronounced as they moved east along the ridge. The storm was lashing the hillside furiously, and they could barely see.

"There's a cave here!" called Mical. The opening was large enough to walk in easily, but was hidden behind a boulder. Everyone piled inside, pushing to get out of the weather. Mical drew his lightsaber. "Might be kinrath in here. Let's be careful, everyone."

The others set down their bundles. Atton also ignited his saber, and they took a quick look around. The floor of the cave sloped down from the entrance, but the overhang outside meant no rain was coming in, and it was dry. There was a waist-high rock shelf on each side of the cave. At the back of the chamber, the cave continued down into the dark. Mira tapped her fingers on her elbow. "Someone has lived here before. Hikers, or maybe Dantari. See this depression in the floor? There's been a fire here; you can see the staining on the ceiling where the smoke rose up and out the entrance. Those ledges would be a good place to sleep."

Visas nodded. "Why don't you set up camp? I will head further in, to make sure the cave is safe. Darkness is not an issue for me."

"Go ahead," said Mical. "Mira, can you get a fire going?"

Mira nodded. "Absolutely. I have dry tinder inside my cloak."

They began stacking firewood and clearing away debris. About ten minutes later, the fire was going and they had spread their cloaks to dry. Visas trotted in, looking excited. "Follow me, and quickly. You have to see this!"

They tried to ask Visas what was going on, but the Miraluka was already heading back down the passage. Atton shrugged and followed, with the others behind him. As they headed further in, Mical began to feel a small disturbance in the Force. He glanced around, but the others hadn't seemed to notice. The passage ended in a roundish room perhaps fifteen meters in diameter. Visas turned to the others. "I'm not sure what is here, but I can feel something wonderful."

Everyone ignited their sabers. The walls of this room were different from the rest of the cave; they were rougher, strangely textured… Mira held up her saber and gasped. It wasn't rough stone, it was writing: names and dates etched into the rock with the tip of a lightsaber blade. Centuries of Padawans had trained in the valley, and carved their history into the walls of the chamber. The group spread out and began to read.

"Master Vrook Lamar's name is here," called Mical. "It must be from his days as a student, back before the Exar Kun War."

"Exar Kun's here too," said Mira, pointing. "Along with Crado and Sylvar."

Bao-Dur ran his hand across another section of wall. "I've found Bastila Shan, the Battle Maiden. And here's Juhani, another of Revan's companions. They were both awarded the Cross of Glory after Lehon."

"I was expecting to find Revan's name," said Atton, "but I don't see him anywhere."

"Revan's early training was at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant," said Mical. "He trained on Dantooine, but later on, when he was older." He kept on reading the wall, moving further in from Vrook's name. "Hah! Vandar Tokare. He was head of the Council of Dantooine when I was a youngling; he took over after the death of Master Vodo-Siosk Baas." His eyes widened. "The date is nearly two hundred years ago!"

"Over here," Mira said, smiling. She indicated a section of wall. "It's Master Meetra." The students all gathered around their Master's name, reflecting on the history that had passed through the room. One by one, they drifted away, back to the fire in the front room.

Atton caught Brianna's arm and held her back. "One more name to see."

He led her to the front-right corner of the room; the name was just below waist high. Brianna's hand shook as she traced over the letters. "Arren Kae." She turned to Atton, tears of joy in her eyes. "My mother… she was _here_ , right here. She must have been about fourteen." Atton pulled her close, and the two kissed before heading up to join the others.

* * *

They spent the stormy night sleeping on top of their folded cloaks, with the fire to keep them warm. In the morning, they were awakened by the sound of starship engines-a very familiar sound. Everyone raced outside to find the _Ebon Hawk_ landed at the bottom of the slope. Meetra was walking up the ridge, beaming.

Atton crossed his arms. "Aren't you a day early?"

Meetra gave him a sharp look, then chuckled. "Okay, so I'm a big softy. After the storm last night, I had to make sure you were all right. Come down to the ship for breakfast."

"The hell with breakfast," Mira retorted. "We need a 'fresher and clean clothes!"

"That, too," Meetra laughed. "Let's go." Everyone trooped aboard the _Hawk_ , got cleaned up, and ate their first decent meal in almost two weeks. Meetra introduced them to Dantooine coffee, a tradition at the Enclave. Once the meal was finished, they sat around the table, waiting for Meetra to speak. She looked from one of her students to the next. "You've seen the lower chamber, I can tell. You, like countless Jedi before you, have found your way to Padawan's Cave. The Enclave is only about fifty years old, but Jedi have trained and studied on Dantooine for centuries. Master Vandar started the tradition of carving your name in the wall when he was here as a Padawan. The cave is kept a secret from the new members of the Order, so each can discover it for themselves. It will be your home for the rest of your time here; when you depart, you will carve your name in the lower chamber, alongside those of the Jedi who have gone before you." Meetra clapped her hands together. "It's time for me to leave. I have brought camping gear to make your stay more comfortable, and the records from the library for you to study. I will come back once a month to deliver supplies, and check on your progress. Let's get the ship unloaded, and start this next phase of your training."

The students set up housekeeping in the cave. Meetra had brought all the luxuries: Bedrolls, portable toilet, heater, and everything they needed to cook fresh food every day. They practiced every Jedi art that Meetra had taught them. They spent their mornings out in the valley, exercising and practicing their physical skills. The forest was their obstacle course, running track, and dueling ring all in one. Handmaiden set up a schedule of duel practice. They fought one-on-one, or in pairs. As they improved, Handmaiden mixed in two-on-one, three-on-two, and four-on-two duels, to push the others to the limit. In the afternoon, they switched to Force techniques-pushing and pulling stones, tracking animals and birds while blindfolded, and meditating. After dinner, they would gather in the lower chamber. Some nights, Mical taught what he knew of Jedi philosophy. Even though Meetra disagreed with the Council's views, she felt it was important that the others learn them, so they could decide for themselves. Other times, Mical would pick a name or date off the wall and recount the history of the Jedi Order, and the Knights and Masters who had shaped the galaxy in years past.

Spring warmed into summer. More storms blasted through the valley, but the students were safe inside the cave. The meadows bloomed with wildflowers, iriaz reared their foals, and Meetra's followers kept on studying. At the end of each month, Meetra dropped by for a day and tested them. They might have to play catch using the Force, solve puzzles, or answer philosophical questions. Once, Meetra brought a couple squads of the Khoonda militia for combat training. They fought in mixed groups, simulating combat against Sith. It wasn't the most realistic training, but it was the best they could do. Meetra also arranged for them to practice mind tricks on the militia troopers, with the objective of retrieving a guarded item. Bao-Dur wasn't able to trick anyone. The others had some success, but no one other than Atton was able to trick Zherron himself.

They had grown in that time, gaining power in the Force, skill in combat, and insight into themselves. They had all opened up to each other, to some extent. Atton shared his past with the group, a personal revelation he would have found unthinkable a year earlier. Mira took some coaxing, but eventually, she was willing to talk about her childhood among the Mandalorians, and she had plenty of amusing anecdotes about marks she'd hunted. Handmaiden had told the others about her parents, although only Atton knew her given name. Bao-Dur had a few stories about Meetra from his time with the fleet. Mical regaled everyone with tales of his growing up a youngling at the Enclave, and studying under Meetra. Visas talked about her people, their unique relationship with the Force, and what she had learned as a member of the Luka Sene. Everyone was curious about the Sith Lord who had enslaved her, but the past was simply too painful. Mical felt her unease, and told the others to let it go.

Something else happened during the students' time in Padawan's Cave. Mical and Visas emerged as leaders of the group. Mical showed himself to be a superb teacher, with an extensive knowledge of history and Force healing. Visas knew a wide variety of Force techniques, and helped the others learn them. Meetra was initially concerned that the others would be resentful, but that was not the case. They recognized that the pair led well, and chose to follow. There was mutual trust and respect throughout the group; everyone was good at something, and they played to their strengths. The two were also surprisingly effective fighting as a team. Neither one could equal Handmaiden for fighting skill, Atton for ingenuity, Bao-Dur for strength, or Mira for agility. Even so, when working together, they were a match for any other pair of students.

* * *

The foliage in the valley was turning orange and brown; six months had gone by since Meetra's students discovered the cave. The _Ebon Hawk_ landed outside the cave and Meetra walked down the ramp. Her students jogged down the hillside. Meetra did not speak, but waved for them to follow her. She led the group down through the forest to the clearing beside the lake.

Meetra turned to face her students. _Time to see if_ my _training has paid off_. "This will be your final challenge before we leave Dantooine and continue our mission. Set your sabers to low-power; you will be dueling _me_. You may use any techniques which you believe may bring success-other than the dark side, of course." She met Handmaiden's eyes and smiled. "And do not hold back, or I will hurt you."

"I have a bad feeling about-" Atton never finished his sentence; Meetra grabbed him with the Force and threw him ten meters into the lake. She powered on her lightsabers and rushed Handmaiden. The Echani woman blocked and countered, but Meetra anticipated her move and caught her with a kick to the stomach. Handmaiden hit the ground and rolled once before coming to a stop.

"The Echani forms are an excellent fighting style, but they are easy to recognize, and fairly well-known," Meetra said. "If you restrict yourself to those techniques alone, you become predictable-and being predictable will get you killed."

Mira stepped up, angling her saber in the two-handed version of Makashi style. Meetra shifted to Form II as well, attacking with her long blade while using the shoto exclusively for defense. She held her student off without effort; Mira began mixing in Mandalorian dueling techniques. She ducked one of Meetra's attacks, grabbed a handful of gravel, and threw it at Meetra's head. Meetra was forced to close her eyes, and Mira made her move. Meetra parried the strike with her eyes shut and lashed out, hitting Mira's left thigh. Mira lost her balance and fell.

"Good improvisation, but not enough," said Meetra. "Impaired vision is not crippling for one who feels the Force. Don't think you have the advantage-make sure before you commit yourself." She turned and faced Mical.

Meetra's newest student stood his ground, presenting a Soresu defensive stance. Meetra closed the distance with a sudden burst of speed, trying to catch Mical by surprise. He blocked her easily, then stopped the sneak attack from Meetra's off hand. Meetra kept up the offensive, attacking from every angle. Mical blocked everything, defending himself with a minimum of effort. Meetra was expending much more energy slashing at him, with little to show for it. She locked blades with Mical, then twisted her sabers in opposite directions. She tore the lightsaber from his grip, then struck him in the chest. Mical yelped and clutched at the burn.

"Third-form defense is nearly perfect, but it gives your opponent the initiative." Meetra tossed Mical his saber. "You must take the offensive at some point, or your enemy will eventually find a way to beat you."

Atton had climbed out of the lake; he dropped his soaked overcloak and drew his lightsaber. Meetra heard his voice counting cards in her mind, blocking her from detecting his intentions. She nodded approvingly and advanced, angling her sabers. Atton began moving counterclockwise, shading toward Meetra's off hand. Meetra wasn't worried about fighting on her weak side, so she started her combo with a strike from her shoto. Atton was ready for her. He caught her shoto and spun it out of her hand with a flick of his wrist, then blasted the hilt with Force push to send it flying into the underbrush. Meetra didn't even try to retrieve it, she just shifted to a two-handed grip and kept fighting. Atton was taller than Meetra, and had better reach; he used his advantages well and forced Meetra to retreat. He got in close and stomped on her front foot, then kicked her in the knee. Meetra stumbled off balance, trying to recover her footing. Atton grinned and went for the win. Meetra deflected the strike, then brought her saber up and hit him in the nose. She shook her head and pulled her shoto back to herself. "Don't get cocky. Ever."

Now Visas ran in, blasting a push ahead of her. Meetra was surprised by the power of the blast, and was knocked off her feet. She flipped and landed, bringing her blades around in time to stop the Miraluka's follow-up strike. Meetra went on the offensive, but Visas avoided the attack and threw her off-hand lightsaber. Meetra dodged it easily. Visas pulled the saber toward her back; it was an old ruse, and didn't fool Meetra in the slightest. She spun out of the way, but Visas wasn't finished. Her saber ripped through the treetops behind her, and Visas hurled a Force Wave carrying branches, gravel, and dirt. The debris hit Meetra full-force in the face, chest and legs; she cried out and fell.

"Master!" Visas doused her sabers and ran to Meetra's side. "Forgive me, Master!"

Meetra exploded up from the ground, slashing Visas with three lightning-quick strikes to the torso and knocking her down. "Sith fight with deceit and guile. _Never_ lower your guard. If you do, you won't live to regret your mistake."

Visas bowed to Meetra and stood aside. The only one left was Bao-Dur. He ignited his saber and stepped forward. The others stood by, watching excitedly; clearly, they expected this to be a good show. The big Zabrak powered on his double-blade and adopted an attack stance. Meetra set up in her usual Shien defense and waited. Bao-Dur whirled his saber and swung down diagonally. Meetra didn't have the strength to actually stop his powerful attacks, only deflect them, and each one still knocked her backwards. Bao-Dur swung laterally at chest height, then tried to surprise Meetra with a left hook. This left an opening that Meetra tried to exploit, but he stopped her slash with his mechanical arm. Bao-Dur locked blades with Meetra and shoved, sending Meetra flying. She hit, rolled, and got to her feet. Bao-Dur gathered himself and leapt into the air, bringing his fist down at her. Meetra dodged aside in a blur of motion; the punch cratered the ground and Meetra brought her blade down across Bao-Dur's back.

"You are one of the strongest fighters I have ever seen," Meetra said, "but you sacrifice speed for power. A weaker, faster attack can be more effective, depending on the situation." Meetra turned to the others. "We aren't finished here."

Mira ran up alongside Bao-Dur, and they took Meetra on together. She parried and countered with both blades. Bao-Dur slashed at head height while Mira went for Meetra's legs. Meetra jumped into a kind of low flat spin; one saber passed above her, the other beneath. She lashed out with her sabers, striking both her opponents in the torso. Mical and Visas came next; they tried using the Force and Visas' shoto to attack Meetra from three directions simultaneously. Meetra had to move fast to avoid all three blades. She parried Mical, spun to block the floating blade, and then knocked Visas back. The Miraluka went for Meetra's back with the floating lightsaber. Meetra whirled and hit it hard enough to send it spinning towards Mical. He parried and Meetra got him with her long saber, then threw her shoto to finish Visas. Handmaiden stepped up, with Atton spreading wide to her left. They moved with perfect coordination, forcing Meetra to choose one of them to face and turn her back to the other. Handmaiden was the stronger fighter, so Meetra squared up to her. Then she realized her mistake. Atton was shielding his thoughts, and Meetra couldn't feel him coming, but she had committed herself, and couldn't turn away from Handmaiden. The Echani woman ended up providing the solution. She took her eyes off Meetra for a split second when Atton started to move. Meetra spun and parried, then leapt into a flip to get both her opponents in front of her. Atton and Handmaiden tried to spread out again, but Meetra didn't give them time. She launched herself forward, alternating attacks between challengers. In terms of saber skill, Handmaiden and Atton were the best of her students, and they were even better when working together. The thing to do, then, was separate them. Meetra caught Handmaiden with a push, drove Atton in the other direction, and caught him with a slash to the upper chest. She turned and took off in a powerful leap, bringing her sabers down on Handmaiden. The Echani woman blocked both blades and threw Meetra back. Atton ran up alongside, followed by the others. All six of Meetra's students surrounded her, lightsabers blazing.

Meetra took a deep breath, set her feet, and dropped into a Shien defense. Bao-Dur came first; she deflected his attack and turned to parry another from Mical. Mira came at her from behind, and then everyone rushed in at once. Meetra spun, flipped, and kept moving through the chaotic fight. She wielded her sabers independently, blocking or dodging attacks from every side. She saw an opening and struck, sending Bao-Dur to the ground. With the pressure slightly lessened, Meetra caught Visas in a grip and delivered a blow with her shoto. Mira tried another attack on Meetra's back, and fell to a reverse-grip stab. Meetra drew on the Force and went on the offensive, moving in a blur. Handmaiden never saw the strike coming, and then it was down to two on one. Meetra hammered Atton and Mical with a flurry of strikes, broke their defense, and cut them both down.

"Well done." Meetra was breathing heavily, but smiling. "You have done tremendously, and I am proud of all of you. It is time for us to depart. The droids will have packed up all the gear from the cave by now. Before we go, you should return to the lower chamber. There you will meditate on your time here, and leave your names for future generations."

Meetra's students began the walk back up to Padawan's Cave. Handmaiden hung back to speak with Meetra. "Master, I…" Her voice gave out.

"I think I know the question, Handmaiden." Meetra laid a hand on the Echani woman's shoulder. "The walls of the lower chamber of Padawan's Cave are a record of _personal_ accomplishment, one of the only ways a Padawan is allowed to show pride in their achievements. You should write your given name. If you aren't ready for us to know it, you may wait until the others have left."

Handmaiden smiled faintly. "I had already decided to put my name down privately, Master. It's just… the others intend to write their names beneath yours, as a sign of respect. I want to carve my name by my mother's, but I did not wish to offend you."

Meetra smiled and nodded. "That choice is yours to make, and I understand completely." Handmaiden thanked Meetra. The students carved their names, the latest entry in a long record, then left Padawan's Cave. They boarded the _Ebon Hawk_ and took off, ready to continue their journey together.

* * *

 **A/N: Padawan's Cave is my absolute favorite AU addition to this story. I have this mental image of a group of teens stumbling into the cave, someone coming up with the idea of leaving graffiti. Then the next group finds it, and the next... eventually, there are decades of history on the walls.**


	30. Dxun, part one

**Disclaimer: I didn't create the most awesome soldiers in the Star Wars universe.**

* * *

Hyperspace was a blue blur outside the dormitory windows. The _Ebon Hawk_ had jumped an hour earlier, and the crew had settled back into their quarters. They were sitting around the holodisplay when Meetra walked in. "As Atton has no doubt told you by now, we are en route to Onderon. According to Master Atris' information, Master Kavar is in hiding somewhere in Iziz. We'll have to land at the starport and look for him."

Mira crossed her arms. "Master, I hope you're not planning on searching the same way you did on Nar Shaddaa. Onderon isn't like the smugglers' moon. They have a strong government with all the trimmings, including several highly skilled intelligence agencies. They're very distrustful of outsiders. We will have to work to avoid notice, or we'll end up arrested, possibly even shot."

Meetra nodded. "Caution would be wise. Onderon has a historical association with the Sith and the dark side." She took a breath. "We've got a few days before we reach the Japrael system, so why don't we all relax until then? You've been training hard-and so have I."

There was little to do while in flight, but Meetra wanted to give the others a respite from training. They dropped out of hyperspace to see an unusual sight: a large cloud of ships of all kinds, hovering in orbit near one of Onderon's four moons. They were passing by a formation of _Foray_ -class destroyers with escorting fighters, docking one by one. Atton pointed. "Well, this is Onderon. It looks like there's a long line to get into the Iziz Starport."

The freighter joined the holding pattern. "Something feels wrong here," said Kreia. "A great disturbance in orbit… and again on the planet below."

Atton shrugged. "I guess this blockade is a symptom of larger problems on Onderon."

"If they decide to do a cargo search, we're going to be in trouble," Mira said tightly.

"Looks like we're about to find out," said Atton. "I'm receiving a message from some Colonel Tobin. Patching it through."

The voice was nasal, dismissive, and dripping with contempt. "The _Ebon Hawk_. I was told to expect your arrival. I don't know your business on Onderon, but it ends here."

A squadron of Aurek fighters broke formation with the nearest destroyer. They accelerated into the holding pattern, dove at the _Hawk_ , and opened fire. Atton firewalled the throttle and zoomed away from the fighters, twisting through the cluster of ships. Meetra hammered the alarm. "Battle stations! We are under attack."

The crew had practiced for space combat, and they knew their roles. Handmaiden took the gunner/navigator seat behind Atton and dropped the chin gun. Mira and HK took control of the wing guns, with T3 plugged in to aid in targeting. Mical climbed up to the dorsal turret, while Bao-Dur sat behind Meetra at the systems station. There were a dozen fighters after them, with more coming. The _Ebon Hawk_ was fast and maneuverable, and Atton used every bit of performance to avoid his pursuers. He ducked under a big tanker and broke left. "They're much faster than Vogga's shuttles, Master, and they have better sensors. I'll have a hard time shaking them. If you can shoot the close ones down, I can break contact." He jinked and slipped between a bulk freighter and a passenger liner. "They know this ship; if we set down on Onderon, they'll be all over us."

"Let's jump away," called Mira. "We can fly back to Nar Shaddaa and leave the _Hawk_ with Hussef's people. I still have my safehouses there, with the resources to forge identification papers. We can buy passage on another ship and come in under different names."

"Sounds good," Meetra agreed. "Atton, get us out of here!"

Atton didn't reply; he was focused on evasive maneuvers. More fighters were coming after them, and the destroyers were flying along the outside of the holding pattern, ready to fire if the _Hawk_ came out. Four Aureks appeared off the left wing; HK and Mical began shooting and got two of them. The remaining pair opened fire, but missed. Several bolts struck a large grain carrier, which opened up with light repeaters. A destroyer fired twice and destroyed the cargo ship's guns, then began a boarding action. More ships began shooting-at the _Hawk_ , the fighters, or even each other. Atton kept flying, weaving in and out of the other shipping to stay clear of the destroyers. When he had opened the range some, he broke clear and began running for open space. The fighters spotted them and several gave chase. Atton elected not to evade, but to sprint for the edge of Onderon's gravity well while the gunners held off their pursuers. They began taking a toll on the Aureks. There were only two fighters left when a warning tone sounded in the cockpit.

"They're locking us up." Atton put the ship into a rapidly shifting series of evasive patterns. The warning tone changed to a shrill electronic scream. "Torpedoes in the black! Torps one and two, five o'clock high; torps three and four, eight o'clock level. Gunners, forget the fighters, shoot down the torpedoes before we get blown to bits!"

The proton torpedoes streaked in at the freighter. Atton didn't even try to dodge; he kept the ship level, to give the gunners the best possible chance to hit the torpedoes. Mira and Mical fired on the torpedoes coming from the right rear. They got the first one more than a kilometer away and the second three hundred meters out. HK engaged the second pair alone. He got the first one, but the turret couldn't rotate fast enough, and the final torpedo got through. It struck and detonated at the stern, between the engines. The explosion spun the freighter ninety degrees to the right; the lights went out and alarms blared. Sparks jumped up from the helm console and the controls flickered and died. Atton flipped up the board, grabbed the manual yoke, and kept flying.

"Hull breach, engine room, and fire in engine two," Bao-Dur said calmly, checking his readouts. He began inputting commands into the console. "Engine room hatch has sealed. Shutting down engine two, fire suppression system is activated."

The fighters were circling to come in from the front; the gunners shot them down before they could fire again. Bao-Dur kept working on damage control; the lights came back on and the klaxon stopped. "Fire is out, but our starboard engine is out of commission, and the hyperdrive is damaged." He glanced up at Meetra. "I can't get in there to make repairs-the engine room is fully depressurized."

"There's another squadron coming from Onderon," Atton said. "I can't keep us in one piece much longer. Sorry to spoil your fun, but we've got to land now. I'm going to put us down on that jungle moon."

* * *

Atton banked the _Hawk_ and headed around the far side of the large moon, ducking below the horizon where the fighters couldn't see them. The freighter soared over the trees, trailing smoke from the damaged engine. Atton shut down everything that could make electronic noise, hugging the terrain while watching for a landing spot. Eventually, he spotted a suitable clearing, set down, and turned to Meetra. "You know, just once, I wish someone was glad to see us. But no, if it isn't weapons pointed at our heads, it's someone trying to blast us out of the sky."

Bao-Dur hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "I need to get started on the engines."

"Take T3 with you," said Meetra. "Atton, can you handle the helm repairs?"

He nodded. "It will be some time. I'm shutting down all unnecessary systems until we make repairs. It'll keep us from being a target. Even so, Tobin may send people after us. Master, you might want to get some of the others out on watch. I'm not too sure where we are. I did pick up the remains of an old outpost near here. Maybe that's why there's all these clearings around-maybe they were once settlements."

"There were no settlements here," said Kreia, walking into the cockpit. "Those clearings were most likely once craters… or crash sites."

"Crash sites?" Atton asked.

"This is Dxun, where the Mandalorians began their crusade against the Republic," Kreia replied. "The remains of whatever outposts you detected here are military ones. We should be careful."

"This is where the Mandalorian Wars started?" Atton blinked. "This doesn't look much like a battlefield."

"The plants grow fast here. They've had plenty of fertilizer." Meetra looked out the cockpit window. She remembered the jungle well-she still saw it in her dreams from time to time.

Kreia folded her arms. "There may be a means to get to Onderon by another route. The Force has guided us here for a reason. We should explore our surroundings. There is… something here."

Atton's eyes widened. "On Dxun? Oh, there's something here all right-predators. Not small Flipdarters, but big, mean, nasty predators."

"Nevertheless, we should explore our surroundings," said Kreia, "and that nearby outpost would be as good a place as any to begin."

"I agree," Meetra said. "I'll go get the others moving. Atton, you're in charge here at the ship. Handmaiden, Bao-Dur, G0-T0, and T3 will stay here and help with repairs."

As Meetra headed for the hold, Kreia waited until she and Atton were alone. "I have a feeling the ship will not be repaired until our business here is concluded. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, I understand." Atton cocked his head. "What's so important about this place?"

"This is where the Mandalorian Wars began," Kreia repeated. "She fought here once, and there are things here she must see."

"I know about the Dxun campaign," Atton said. "I wonder why she didn't say anything."

"Do you speak of all your battles?" Kreia asked sharply, "or are there some you wish to forget?" The old woman turned and left the cockpit.

Meetra walked down the ramp with her scouting party behind her. She walked around the ship and got her first look at the damage. It was _bad_. The torpedo had blown a three-meter hole in hull, part of the starboard engine cowling was gone, and dozens of pipes and wires had been cut and were hanging loose. She could actually see Bao-Dur working inside. There was nothing to be done but let him work, so Meetra took a deep breath and turned to face the trees.

HK rotated his head in a complete circle. "Statement: Master, I detect an extreme number of life signs. My sensors are saturated and I cannot pick out individual targets."

"It's the Dxun jungle." Mira took a deep breath and smiled strangely. "It's been twelve years, but it feels just like it did when I left." She glanced at Meetra. "I don't have to tell you how deadly the jungle is. There are plenty of dangerous animals here-cannoks, boma, even a zakkeg if we're real unlucky. There might also be traps or defenses left over from the battles here. We should keep our sabers off as much as possible-that much light and noise is not wise here."

Meetra nodded. "This is your turf, Mira. Take point."

They set off north into the jungle, Mira leading the way. They found a path to follow. It made moving easier, but Mira explained that it was a game trail, likely made by cannoks. A cannok pack would be bad enough, but larger predators might well be waiting in ambush. Mira moved slowly and deliberately, examining the ground, listening, even smelling the air. She raised her head. "Watch yourselves-we are being stalked."

There was a snarl from the right. A red-brown blur of teeth and claws burst out of the foliage and leapt at Mical. He was knocked to the ground, but kicked the beast off and scrambled to his feet. He drew his saber, but whatever had attacked him disappeared into the jungle. The creature was gone so fast HK didn't get a shot off.

"What was that?" Mical turned on the spot, peering into the underbrush.

"Mandalorians call them maalraas," Mira said. "Most other peoples use the name Nighthunters. They are a mid-level predator, not native to Dxun. We're lucky-smaller maalraas hunt in packs. That was a big one, so it's probably alone."

Visas whipped her head from side to side anxiously. "Where did it go? I can't feel it at all!"

"Calm yourself, blind one!" Kreia snapped. "You depend overmuch on the Force, but Nighthunters can obscure their presence. Use your hearing." The old woman spread her feet and adopted a defensive stance. The creature attacked again; Kreia lashed out and hit its shoulder. It snapped at her, then hopped back, and they got their first good look. The maalraas was two meters long and vaguely feline. It had smooth skin and was powerfully muscled, with a whip-like tail and a mouth full of long, sharp teeth. It leapt at Visas, who blew it back with a push. The beast snarled again and attacked Mical, who caught it in a Force grip. He slammed the beast into a tree trunk, then threw it into the jungle. The maalraas hissed and ran off.

"Nice." Mira grinned. "It shouldn't be back; it'll go find a meal that's easier to catch."

Visas smiled. "Maybe the maalraas should dig for tubers." The students laughed and continued on down the path. They walked for about ten minutes, dispatching a couple small groups of cannoks.

Meetra's comm chimed. "I've got some news," Atton said. "The space battle is still going on. The _Hawk_ 's sensors just picked up a contact heading to the moon. I can't tell what it is without active sensors, but it's broadcasting a distress signal, and it looks like it'll come down between you and the outpost. Could be somebody in trouble, or it could be Tobin, setting a trap."

"Thanks, Atton." Meetra clicked off the comm. "Let's go. We'll recon the crash on the way."

Kreia shook her head firmly. "It is a foolish risk to take. Even if it is not an Onderonian trap, that ship is broadcasting its position. It will draw others, including those who pursue us."

"It's the lesser of two evils," Meetra replied. "The alternative is leaving the path and taking a longer route around-through the jungle."

"Leaving the path is a _bad_ idea," Mira agreed. "It would take hours to push through the bush, and we do not want to get caught in the forest at night."

They got moving again, headed generally north along the trail. It was late morning, local time, but the sun only broke through the canopy here and there. The heat was oppressive, and everyone was sweating. They swatted at insects and kept going. About two hours and ten kilometers from their landing site, Meetra began to pick up a new smell. It was a mix of hot metal, chemicals, and smoke-the odor of a crashed ship. They broke out into another clearing. The ship was a medium-small freighter. At least three dozen heavily armed Duros stood guard around the ship; at least that many cannoks lay shot at the edges of the field. One Duros stepped forward. "You have led us on a very fine chase, human. The battle above was your doing, yes? Our ship is quite damaged now."

Mira smiled. "Well, if it isn't the Zhug brothers. The bounty's long since called off, you know."

"We're not here for the credits." The leader tapped himself on the chest. "I am Dezanti Zhug, head of the family. You killed many of my brothers on Nar Shaddaa, exile. For this you will die."

Meetra was reaching for her sabers when Mical stepped in front of her. "We do not want any bloodshed, but we will defend ourselves. I suggest you repair your ship and leave us be."

Dezanti leveled his rifle and fired. Mical deflected the bolt precisely, sending it into the Duros' kneecap. The Zhug boss howled in pain and fell. Mical angled his saber. "There is no need for further violence. Lower your weapons."

They didn't. Dezanti tried to pull a grenade, but Visas blew him into the air with a whirlwind. The Duros exploded high above the other hunters. The Zhugs began shooting; Meetra and the others drew their sabers and counterattacked. The bounty hunters weren't any more skilled than they had been when they attacked the _Hawk_ on Nar Shaddaa. There were more of them this time, but they were no match for five Jedi and an assassin droid.

They were heading for the path when Mira held up a hand. "Watch it, Master. There's a body over there." She pointed to the figure in familiar blue armor. "A lone Mandalorian. Fresh kill, too-the Zhugs must have got him. I can't figure the percentage in them being on this rock. Most Mandalorians I know are mercenaries-and not the cheap kind. Whoever hired him had a good reason to send him to this jungle."

Meetra frowned. "Do you think he was alone?"

Mira shook her head. "Unlikely-they tend to stay together, and there's not much one lone merc can do. This one's equipment says scout. My guess? He was part of a larger group, and was sent to check on the landed ships."

"The outpost?" asked Mical.

"Probably," Mira replied. "But having lost contact with their scout, there's probably more coming south to investigate." The air shimmered and a dozen or so Mandalorians appeared all around them, weapons aimed. Mira sighed. "Or, they're already here."

"Be calm, Jedi." The red-armored squad leader lowered his rifle; the others followed suit. "We watched your fight, and we know it was the Duros who killed our man. We have orders to escort you to our camp-our leader wishes to speak with you."

"This may prove of use to us," Kreia said quietly. "Let us hear his words and see if they hold any value."

Meetra nodded. "Lead on, then."

* * *

They walked for another two hours, stopping twice to rest. The terrain became rougher, the foothills of a mountain range. Two dozen klicks from the landing site, they came over a ridge, looking down on the largest clearing yet. Meetra was initially surprised to see that the outpost looked mostly intact, just overgrown with vines. Then she looked closer. Only five structures were still standing-two hangars a workshop, a sensor post, and the command building. The other 'buildings' were Mandalorian ships: a _Shaadlar_ -class troopship and six Q-Carrier dropships, all covered with sensor-shroud netting. All had their hatches open and were clearly being lived in. They walked down into the camp. The place was full of Mandalorians-Meetra estimated their numbers at nearly a thousand. This was no small mercenary expedition, this was a major force, and they appeared to be preparing for military action. Meetra chewed her lip-her students couldn't possibly take this many. On the other hand, she felt no malice from the Mandalorians around her, which was a surprising but hopeful development. The red-armored Mandalorian had Meetra's companions wait outside and led Meetra herself into the command post. Inside was the biggest Mandalorian Meetra had seen yet. He wore silvery durasteel armor and had his back to them, looking at readouts on his screen. The squad leader reported in and stood back. The commander turned and Meetra felt a chill run up her spine-he wore Mandalore's Mask. _I thought Revan hid the mask, so the Mandalorians would never be united again. How did this Mandalore come to have it?_

"General Surik?" The new Mandalore sounded surprised. "So you're the intruder? Our sensors picked up your handiwork in space. I am Mandalore, leader of the Mandalorians."

"I recognized the mask." Meetra smiled wryly. "You're taller than the last guy."

"First things first." Mandalore spread his hands. "Can your ship fly at all? If so, you should get it here. We can help you repair it, and keep it out of sight."

Meetra frowned. "Why so generous?"

Mandalore shrugged. "Enemy of my enemy, simple as that. The Onderonians were trying to blast you out of the sky. I assure you, my Mandalorians have no plans to march on the Republic again."

"Either you're better at mental defense than anyone I've ever met, or you're telling the truth." Meetra crossed her arms. "If you're not moving on the Republic, why come here again? What is your purpose, and why are the Onderonians your enemies?"

"Mandalorians have a rapport with this jungle," Mandalore replied. "Every moment here is a struggle, all creatures gripped in a constant war for survival. We train here and learn the lessons of the jungle. The beasts here also help us keep our edge. As to our purpose, many Mandalorians have fallen from the path of honor and are now no more than common mercenaries. But that is changing. I am gathering the clans again, training them in the true Mandalorian way." He jerked his head towards the large planet visible out the window. As to the Onderonians, there is something going on in Iziz. What exactly I'm not certain, but the unprovoked attack on your ship was not an isolated incident."

"I'm trying to get to Onderon. Do you know how I can get there?" Meetra asked.

"It so happens I have a small shuttle that's more than capable of running the Onderon military blockade," Mandalore said. "I make occasional trips to Iziz for information and supplies. I had planned to go at the end of the month, but I could move that up. For now, let's get your ship here and your people settled in. That ship is going to be a mess; it's better if no one's sleeping aboard."

Meetra called Atton with the coordinates. He was surprised, but got the _Hawk_ in the air, then flew his wobbly way north. As soon as the ship was down inside the compound, the Mandalorians went to work camouflaging it. In five minutes, the ship was invisible from beyond a hundred meters. Bao-Dur was uneasy around the Mandalorians, but he remained focused on the task at hand. He teamed up with T3 and Zuka, the Mandalorian chief mechanic, to remove the starboard engine from the ship with a crane. Once it was sitting on stands, they got to work repairing the damage. Atton continued working on the flight controls.

Meetra didn't know exactly what to make of the new Mandalore. He seemed at times to be an old-line Mandalorian ideologue, yet at others, he spoke of plans to totally change his people's ways. Meetra suspected that he knew more than he was letting on. Several times, she spotted him looking at HK, T3, or the _Hawk_ itself. She made a mental note to ask him at a later time. With the _Hawk_ safely hidden and repairs underway, they headed back into the command post to plan their trip to Iziz.

Mandalore and Meetra both looked up as someone knocked on the door. The red-armored squad leader stepped in. "Yes, Kelborn?" Mandalore said. "What is it?"

Kelborn bowed his head slightly. " _Mand'alor_ , we have a problem. The Jedi was followed here. An Onderonian Planetary Defense Force ship has landed nearby; troops are searching the jungle. A patrol is coming this direction."

" _Osik_." Mandalore turned to Meetra. "We need to take them out quickly and quietly, or else a larger force may come. Your help would be appreciated, Surik."

Meetra nodded. "I'll take some of my people; I could use a squad or two of your warriors backing me up."

"I will instruct them to obey your command." Mandalore chuckled dryly. "I hope you fight as well as you did the last time you were here."

* * *

 **A/N: I love Mandalorians. An entire culture of epic badasses, but infinitely more practical than the Klingons.**


	31. Dxun, part two

**Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever owned KotOR, nor will I ever, barring one hell of a lottery jackpot.**

* * *

Meetra left Atton, Bao-Dur, and T3 working on the ship. Handmaiden and Kreia would watch the path to the camp along with a group of Mandalorians led by Bralor, Mandalore's second-in-command. In order to surprise the Onderonians moving in on them, the ambushers would have to leave the path and move through the jungle. Meetra, Mira, Mical, and Visas headed into the jungle with Kelborn and eight other warriors. The Mandalorians were armed with assault rifles and a pair of light repeaters. Once they were clear of the camp, Meetra ordered the group to separate: Mical and Visas went southeast with Kelborn and half the squad, while she, Mira, and HK went southwest with the other half, led by an _Alor'uus_ -a corporal-named Tagren. The Mandalorians' woodcraft was amazing. They were moving through the tangle of branches, leaves and vines, at fast walking speed, _without making a sound_. Meetra had known they could do it, of course; Mandalorian ambushes had made the Dxun campaign a hellish nightmare which dragged on for months. She had just never _seen_ it, and part of her mind was awed at the level of skill being demonstrated. Another part of her mind was still struggling with the idea of Mandalorians as allies, and Onderon as hostile. She suspected that Bao-Dur and Atton would be having trouble as well, and was glad they weren't heading directly into a fight.

They had been moving for a couple of hours when there was a soft click over the comm. The other group had spotted Onderonian patrols. Meetra's group halted and waited for word. A minute went by, and Mical reported in. The Mandalorians had taken out an Onderonian recon element, and were heading further south. A sentry droid overflew the camp, but the netting kept them hidden. Meetra and Mira got another group of scouts on their own. They also heard some screams and animal sounds-the jungle was taking its toll on the intruders. Over the next hour, the situation became clear. The Onderonian transport, being much bigger than the _Hawk_ , had been forced to find a larger clearing to land in. They'd set down west of the freighter's original landing site, and were searching the jungle in all directions. There could be as many as 200 troops on board; so far, they had only dealt with a dozen or so. Mandalore sent more warriors south, but they would take hours to catch up. Meetra's group was on their own for the time being.

After another hour, Tagren checked his map and cursed. "Jedi, we have a problem. We've been recovering weapons and supplies from old caches in the mountains, hidden during the war. The Onderonians' droids just buzzed one, and we didn't have it fully camouflaged yet!"

Meetra nodded. "Will they know what it is from the flyby?"

"No." Tagren shook his head. "It'll definitely show as artificial, though. They'll investigate, probably a platoon."

Mira smiled. "So, we know where they will head. Can we get there first?"

"We're two klicks closer," Tagren replied. "We can be there about five minutes ahead if we push it."

Meetra glanced at Mira and nodded. "Then we push it. Fast as we can while staying quiet."

The next hour was an exhausting forced march through the dense triple-canopy jungle. They scrambled up a mountain, eventually emerging above the treeline to look out over a sea of treetops and cloud. Tagren led the way to a heavy door set into the rock face. The weapons cache was an artificial cave, full of crates and containers. Visas and Mical had already arrived with Kelborn's squad, and were hard at work preparing their trap. HK-47 took a position at the edge of the trees, where he could fire down into the jungle. The Mandalorians spread out on either side of him, blocking the paths. Meetra and the three students with her concealed themselves in the jungle, ready to hit the Onderonians from the flanks. They had about a minute to get properly hidden before Visas clicked her tongue. Meetra couldn't see them yet, the undergrowth was too thick. She drew her sabers without igniting the blades and waited. Another thirty seconds, and she saw them. About twenty troopers were moving along the path in single file. They wore unmarked armor in jungle camouflage; most carried short carbines backed up by vibroblades. They were agitated, gripping their weapons tightly and watching the woods. A little closer, and Meetra could hear them.

"What happened to Laane?" asked a young woman.

The man next to her wore a field comm terminal on his back. "He got swarmed by those little beasts… I think they're called cannoks."

"I hope this mission is worth it to the Colonel," the female trooper said. "If not-"

"We have our orders, Private," snapped an older man with a heavy pistol. "We do not question them."

The communications specialist checked his earpiece. "Lieutenant, two of our scout patrols have not reported back."

"Two more?" said the nervous private. "Nothing is worth this."

"You're a Lancer," the lieutenant growled, "now _act like it_!"

His upper body vanished in a red flash as HK's first shot hit. The Mandalorians got two more in the opening seconds of the ambush, but the Onderonians reacted quickly and intelligently. They dove off the path, took cover, and returned fire. Their carbines were fully automatic and powerful for their size; the troopers were able to establish a suppressing fire on their attackers. While half the troopers kept up the fire, two groups of four moved out in a classic double envelopment. They would have gotten the Mandalorians, too, except the flankers were moving toward two pairs of Jedi. They froze in shock as lightsaber blades flashed to life in front of them. Meetra and the others moved through the trees, mowing down anyone in their way. A handful of troopers tried to run back down the path. They didn't make it.

A minute later, Meetra's comm chimed. "Jedi, the group you just ambushed got a message off to their ship," Mandalore said tersely. "The main force is moving on your position. Looks like company strength, armed like the last group. They're not trying to be stealthy; they'll be on you in fifteen minutes."

Kelborn laughed. "You heard him, warriors. The enemy outnumbers us a paltry ten to one. Let's prepare a welcome for them!"

The Mandalorians went to work building fighting positions up on the slope, so that the Onderonians would have to come out of concealment in the trees. Mira looked downhill into the jungle. "Master, are you thinking what I'm thinking? The Onderonians don't know their way, so they're keeping to the long, narrow paths. This situation is perfect for mines."

"There are crates of frag mines inside the cache, along with some sensor beacons." said Kelborn. "Tagren will help you set them up. Keep them at a distance from our position, though-the noise will likely attract the beasts of the jungle."

The next ten minutes were spent in frantic activity. Mira and Tagren headed half a kilometer into the jungle and mined the path, along with a couple of other likely approaches. They ran back to the others when they heard the approaching troopers. The Mandalorians had gotten their holes dug and camouflaged with vines and leaves. The Jedi found hiding places and waited for their first sight of the enemy.

* * *

There was a high-pitched whine from above. Two sentry droids zoomed overhead from different directions. They circled once, then dove and fired. The repeater gunners opened up and shot down the first droid; HK got the second. Mira checked her wrist launcher's display; the column of troops was passing the first set of mines. She tapped a control and set off the charges. The blasts weren't visible through the trees, but they heard people yelling in pain. A few moments later, loud roars echoed through the jungle. Mira moistened her lips. "That's a herd of boma!" The yells gave way to warning shouts, then screaming and blaster fire. More mines went off, and the sounds of battle grew closer; the Onderonian troopers were still coming. The Mandalorians brought their weapons up, covering their assigned sectors. The Onderonians burst out of the trees, shooting wildly. The Mandalorians opened fire and began cutting them down. The Jedi stood up and joined the battle.

The boma beasts came out of the jungle, roaring and snapping. They were huge animals, two and a half meters long, bright green, and heavily muscled; they walked on all fours and had what seemed to be dozens of sharp teeth. There were at least twenty of the vicious predators, and they attacked whoever was nearest. The fight turned into a wild melee. Visas was facing three Onderonians when two beasts rushed her from behind. Mical leapt between the bomas and their prey, killed one with his lightsaber, and blasted the other one with the Force. The Jedi pair turned on the Onderonians when the boma charged back in. It grabbed a trooper in its jaws, shook its head, and threw him high into the air. Two other bomas caught the hapless man and ripped him in half. Meetra spun as she heard a roar from above. The boma was already leaping down from a rock, but a bolt from HK's cannon blew it backward with a hole through its throat.

"Retreat!" Meetra cut down another boma, then took on two Onderonians. "Kelborn, get your men to the bunker!" The sergeant shouted acknowledgement, and the Mandalorians began falling back by twos. HK-47 kept firing as the others ran past him. A boma rushed in and the assassin droid shifted targets. He fired just as the boma bit down. The bolt blew the beast in half, but its jaws had already crushed the cannon. HK dropped the useless weapon and activated his flamethrower. Kelborn shouted; he and Tagren ran up to HK carrying a large slugthrower between them. HK took the weapon and brought it up. He fired; the weapon produced a sharp _crack_. The projectiles tore through the air, producing a rippling shockwave which could be seen by the naked eye. A boma's head burst like a balloon and HK took aim at another.

There was a tremendously loud bellow; the bomas ran off. The ground began to shake with heavy footsteps. Mira sucked in a breath. "Zakkeg."

The surviving Onderonians turned and fled into the jungle. The zakkeg emerged and Meetra gasped. It was one of the biggest animals she'd ever seen: a dark red, bigger than a bantha, and covered with spiky armor plates. Its mouth was large enough to swallow Meetra whole, and its teeth were almost a quarter-meter long. HK and the Mandalorians all opened fire. Meetra threw her shoto; it only left a small cut in the armor.

"Get your blade in between the plates," Mira called. "That's the only way to bring that big bastard down!" Meetra and her students moved in; the Mandalorians spread out into a half-circle, aiming for the zakkeg's eyes, ears and mouth. It roared and charged, knocking Mical down and breaking through to the shooters. Before they could stop it, the beast seized a Mandalorian in its jaws and crushed him.

"Davrel, no!" cried Kelborn. The Mandalorians kept shooting, roaring war cries. The Jedi tried to get hits in, but the zakkeg spun, lashing out with its legs and tail. HK ran forward and jumped, landing astride the beast's neck. He placed his rifle against the creature's skull and fired. The zakkeg roared in pain and tried to buck him off. HK fired over and over, until the clip was empty and the zakkeg was still.

The Mandalorians gathered around their fallen comrade. Kelborn knelt down and bowed, tapping his helmeted head against Davrel's. The other Mandalorians followed suit, and the squad turned to leave. Mical cocked his head. "Aren't you going to bury him?"

"Not on Dxun." Mira shrugged. "The whole moon is womb and tomb to the _Mando'ade_. Those who die here are left where they fall, and become a part of the jungle."

Tagren cocked his head. "You are Mandalorian?"

"Partly," Mira replied. "I was captured as a child during the war and raised here, by warriors of _Vhett aliit_ -that's Clan Fett, Master." She smiled strangely at Meetra. "I just realized-the Republic troopers who took me back must have been under your command. Small galaxy."

"Well, I'm sure that's a coincidence." Mical rolled his eyes.

Mira shrugged. "The skills my squad taught me were useful in my work as a bounty hunter, and they've proven useful in my Jedi training, too. I may have begun as a slave, but I think of myself as Mandalorian. I think part of me always will."

"A Mandalorian Jedi." Kelborn chuckled. "Now there is a scary thought." He glanced around. "We should get back to camp. The Onderonians know about this cache now, so we should salvage what we can. You may keep that rifle, assassin."

HK slung the rifle. "Query: It is a fine weapon, but what is it? It does not match anything in my database, Mandalorian or otherwise."

"It's one of a kind," said Tagren. "It's a prototype rifle variant of the Mandalorian Ripper. It fires the same ammunition, but the long barrel accelerates the darts to nearly ten times the speed of sound. We were trying to come up with a weapon that would even the odds against Jedi. It is exceptionally powerful and accurate, but it was too heavy and had too much recoil, even for Mandalorian warriors."

"Statement: It suits me perfectly, Mandalorian." HK raised the rifle and fired; several kilometers away, a bird exploded into a cloud of feathers. "In fact, I may be in love."

* * *

They regrouped and headed back to the Mandalorian camp. Mandalore was waiting in his command post. "Good work, Jedi. A few stragglers made it back to their ship; they reported that the beasts got everyone else, including you. The Onderonian ship has taken of and returned to Iziz. I was planning on heading to Iziz in a few days, but I'll move up the timetable and take you tomorrow afternoon. My men need to prep the shuttle, but first they'll take some time to remember Davrel. You and your followers should attend, Surik. You fought at his side, you were there when he fell."

Meetra put her hands on her hips. "One of the troopers called the other a Lancer, and they mentioned a Colonel. Does that mean anything to you?"

"That'll be Colonel Tobin." Mandalore tapped a few keys and brought up the image of a middle-aged man, with several pages of data. "Tobin commands the Lancer Guards Battalion of the Onderonian Planetary Defense Force. Lancers are the Onderonian military's elite special forces. Don't let the rank fool you, Surik. There's only one General on Onderon, Vaklu himself; Colonel Tobin is the second-highest ranking man in the Onderonian military. He is General Vaklu's personal kath hound. If he's on your trail, you might want to steer clear of Onderon."

"Tobin's the one who opened fire on our ship and forced us to land here." Meetra scrutinized the image on the screen, not sure what she was looking for. "Tell me about Vaklu, too."

Mandalore brought up a different dossier; this one showed a man in his late fifties, with grey-streaked black hair and a full beard. "General Vaklu is Queen Talia's cousin, and head of the Onderonian military for the last fifteen years. He was a resistance fighter during our occupation of Onderon; he fought us hard and fairly skillfully, though he never could have forced us off the planet without Jedi help. He is openly in favor of seceding from the Republic, which has caused tension with the Queen. He's the one behind the new security restrictions you bumped into."

Meetra nodded. "Hopefully, the Lancers who followed us here have convinced Tobin that the jungle got us. They won't be looking for the dead."

"That's true, but security in Iziz is strict in general. Once I get us there, we'll still have to step carefully." Mandalore shrugged. "But that's tomorrow's problem. For now, your people can relax. By the time we're back from this mission, your ship should be ready."

A Mandalorian wake was fifteen minutes of mournful, beautiful chanting, followed by several hours' worth of truly epic party. The warriors told stories and jokes about the departed, in the manner of all soldiers everywhere. Meetra and the others were introduced to _tihaar_ , a powerful spirit which Mandalorians distilled from whatever fruit they could get their hands on. Atton's first shot ended with him coughing and Mira laughing. As the night wore on, the Mandalorians began to sing again, soaring ballads about legendary warriors of the past. The legends turned to more recent times; Meetra and her students quietly excused themselves as Bralor began singing of Mandalore the Ultimate and his final duel with Revan. They headed to several cabins aboard the troopship which had been set up as their quarters.

Mical was sitting at the desk in his cabin, reading one of the Jedi histories. There was a soft knock on the door and he looked up. "Enter."

The door opened and Visas walked in. "Good evening, Mical. I wanted to thank you for your help in today's skirmish. I am certain that you saved my life; the beasts would have devoured me."

"There is no need to thank me," Mical replied sharply. "I would have done the same for any of my comrades." He turned back to his datapad, then stopped. "You have more to say."

Visas nodded. "I wish to speak of you and Master Meetra. We all love her, in our way, but none of us like you do."

"I won't deny it." The blonde man chuckled ruefully. "I should have better control, but I fell for Master Meetra a long time ago."

"Mical, there was someone on Katarr. A young man. He was… very special to me." Visas took a deep breath and sighed. "I was unsure, afraid to find out if he felt the same. And then my lord came, and ended the world. I never told him of his place in my heart, and I have lived with the regret ever since. I have not spoken of your feelings to anyone, but I felt I must tell you what I have seen." Visas crossed the room and took Mical's hand. "Our journey with Master Meetra will not last forever. The longer you wait to tell her, the less time you will have."

Mical shook his head. "I am her apprentice, it is not my place."

Visas smiled. "It was not her place to go to war, but it was right. Think on what I have said." She turned and left without another word.

* * *

The night passed peacefully, and in the morning, the Mandalorians began preparations to fly Meetra to Iziz. Mandalore's shuttle was a modified G-wing; it had a twin repeater turret at the back of the passenger compartment. Mandalore was preflighting the shuttle along with a few of his men when he heard a soft footstep behind him.

"Is all in readiness?" Kreia asked.

"It is, like I promised," Mandalore replied. "Why, you want to back out now?"

Kreia crossed her arms. "My only concerns are for the one you escort to Onderon, Mandalorian. Would you do any less for one of your clan?"

Mandalore raised a warning finger. "Don't pretend to understand us-we Mandalorians are a breed apart."

"If by 'apart' you mean scattered, broken, and lost," Kreia said sharply, "then yes, you are correct."

"Not for long," Mandalore snapped. "Soon the Mandalorians will be strong again, united as one clan under one banner. Mine."

"Ah, yes," said Kreia. "The great crusade-after the first one was ended by Revan and the Jedi. Such a defeat was merciful, an echo of the end, when your ships were in flames, crushed in the grip of Malachor V. But I do not need to remind you of such things."

Mandalore balled his hands into fists. "I was at Malachor V. And I remember how many Jedi died to stop us there. And no matter how many dead orbit that planet, the Mandalorians still live. Clan Ordo still lives."

Kreia shrugged. "Perhaps there will be no new age, Mandalore, no great Mandalorian crusade. Perhaps your people fought their last battle at Malachor V, and you have been dying ever since, a quiet death that will last centuries. And perhaps all that remains will be what I see before me: a man, wounded by a Jedi, encased in a Mandalorian shell, haunted by the thought of being the last of the Mandalorians."

"You've got some guts, talking to me like that," Mandalore growled. "You think your age or your Jedi whelp are going to keep you safe from me?"

"No, Mandalore, you are wrong," Kreia replied, shaking her head. "I hope it is you who will keep the one I travel with safe. You are loyal, and you have served many masters… even when they abandoned you." She stepped forward, speaking so only Mandalore could hear her. "Do you wonder where he wanders now, Mandalore? Why he gave you your orders, then abandoned you at the edge of the galaxy?"

Mandalore froze. "How do you know that?"

Kreia raised her head, her blind eyes reflected in Mandalore's visor. "I know many things, and I can answer the question that burns within your shell, Mandalore. But there is a price-you must keep the one I travel with safe. She is important to me-more important than anything. Show the same loyalty you have shown in the past, Mandalore. If there is a Mandalorian crusade, let it be for something that will carry your people's memory into the future, so when there are no more Mandalorians, at least their honor will remain. The one I travel with has walked your same path-and I ask that when the end comes, that you remember that kinship, even if it seems there is nothing else left."

She turned to leave; Mandalore tapped Tagren on the shoulder. "Forget the Jedi. Keep your eyes on her."

An hour later, Meetra's followers gathered in front of the _Ebon Hawk_ to prepare for the flight to Onderon. Mandalore walked up, with Bralor behind him. "Time to leave, Surik. My shuttle only holds three; pick someone to come along."

Meetra took a moment to think, then pointed. "Mical, you're with us. The rest of you, mind yourselves. I should be back in a week at most."

"Wait a moment." Kreia's head snapped up. "I sense-there is a disturbance in the camp. Our enemy has tracked us here."

There was an explosion from near the main gate. Bralor's voice came over the comm. "Mandalorians, we've got company! Stealthed targets have breached our perimeter!" The Mandalorians drew weapons as black-clad figures decloaked inside the camp. They were the same Sith assassins as had attacked Meetra aboard the _Harbinger_.

Kreia shook her head. "I did not expect them so soon-how did they get here, I wonder? Regardless, we must eliminate them all."

Visas ignited her sabers. "Go, Master. We can handle this."

Meetra hesitated, then saw the looks on her students' faces. She grinned. _They grow up so fast_. "Mical, let's move." They followed Mandalore at a run, strapping themselves in as he took the controls. Meetra had a moment's view of the skirmish, then the G-wing climbed away.

* * *

 **A/N: I wish I could have used the Mandalorians more, but it really didn't fit. This story isn't about them. Did you enjoy our little rumble in the jungle? Review, or PM me and let me know!**


	32. Onderon, part one

**Disclaimer: KotOR II is currently the property of Disney/EA, AFAIK.**

* * *

Mandalore headed north, keeping just inside Dxun's atmosphere. Onderon loomed in the sky above, but the other three moons were invisible in daylight. Visas called; the students and Mandalorians had fought off the Sith attack and the camp was secure. After about two hours of flight, Mandalore pulled the ship into a vertical climb. "We're above the north magnetic pole," he explained. "The flux interferes with sensor systems-it's an old smuggler's trick, using a planet's magnetic field. Only traffic from out-of-system has to go through those searches, flights to and from the moons can just ask for clearance and land. I have a front business on Onderon, guiding big-game hunts outside the wall or on the moons. It explains the ammo and supplies I move, as well as the docking bay I lease in Iziz."

The G-wing popped out of Dxun's magnetic field on a precisely calculated vector. Mandalore cut the engines, shut down all systems except life support, and let the shuttle drift. The ballistic trajectory took them away from Onderon and toward the fourth moon, Suthre. The moon's gravity pulled them around the dark side and Mandalore powered the ship back up. He dove toward the moon, then leveled out and flew across the dawn line and around the day side. Mandalore merged into the marked traffic lane and set the autopilot. "There. We're just another local flight. You two can relax until we land."

He headed aft; Mical leaned back in his seat. "So, you believe Master Kavar is on this world. What's the plan, Master? How will we find him, if he's here?"

Meetra crossed her arms. "I had a talk with Mandalore after the wake. He has a contact in the city who might be able to help us. It'll take some work; I was hoping your Intelligence training might come in handy. If we haven't made any progress in a week, we'll have to come up with a new strategy."

"That'll be up to you, Jedi." Mandalore stepped out of the 'fresher, having changed out of his combat armor. His face was weather-beaten, with a heavy jaw and a small scar above his left eye. He had salt-and-pepper hair cut in a military style, along with a full beard. He wore a red-brown leather vest over a sleeveless black shirt, with tan fatigue trousers and the boots from his armor. A large pistol was strapped to his right hip. He flopped down into the pilot's seat. "You should do the talking in Iziz. My kind aren't big on diplomacy. Don't expect any heavy backup, either. The big gun and my armor gets left aboard ship."

Meetra snorted. "I expect the Onderonians don't much care for Mandalorians."

Mandalore laughed. "No, they don't, but that isn't the point. One Mandalorian would get an impolite reception, maybe a few shouted insults. But armor would get us stopped by police. And the mask of Mandalore might be the most recognizable piece of gear in the galaxy."

"It's either your mask or Revan's," Mical agreed.

Iziz came into view up ahead, an island of grey and tan stone in the green sea of Onderon's jungle. Mandalore deactivated the autopilot and banked the shuttle. They came in over the wall, curving between two big gun towers toward the spaceport in the southwest part of the city. The docking bay was at the top level of the port's private hangar tower; Mandalore guided the shuttle to a landing and shut down the ship. "Here we are, the city of Iziz. It's been shut down tight for months now. General Vaklu is close to declaring martial law. We won't be able to travel too far in the city; it's hard for off-worlders to get a starport visa good for anywhere past the Merchant Quarter. Fortunately I have a friend in this quarter of the city. He's a doctor by the name of Dhagon Ghent. His office is on the other side of the market square." Mandalore snorted. "He isn't a very good doctor, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut. He's where you go, if you want a wound treated and no questions asked, no official entanglements."

"Friends in low places." Meetra nodded. "I like it."

The trio left the shuttle and headed out of the hangar block. Meetra and Mical had left their cloaks behind aboard the _Hawk_ ; Meetra had shown Mical the old dodge of hiding a lightsaber in a glow rod case. There was a security checkpoint at the building exit, manned by an Onderonian soldier. "Name of business?"

"Krayt Shot Hunting," Mandalore replied, slowing to a halt. "What's all this?"

The soldier tapped a few keys. "Ah, yes. Your manifest says it's been two months since you last came here. If you were out hunting on Suthre, you wouldn't know about the new security measures." He rubbed his chin. "I understand that you may not have the papers you need now with you, since you didn't need them when you left. There are ways to get you back through customs, but they are a pain. You might be in luck-do you have two forms of identification?"

Meetra stepped forward, making a subtle motion with her hand. "You don't need to see our identification."

* * *

Five minutes later, Meetra and Mical had newly-issued starport visas, which also served as ID cards within the city. Mical had picked two of the founders of the Jedi Order for their cover names. Most people wouldn't recognize 'Garon Jard' or 'Cala Brin,' but if Kavar heard the names, he'd get it immediately.

They headed out into the Merchant Quarter. It was much as Meetra remembered it from ten years earlier. The Royal Palace rose into the sky at the center of the city; the raised walkways of the Sky Ramp connected it to the gun towers and the wall. Down below, the avenues were wide and clean, lined with planters full of flowers and ornamental grasses. Restaurants, bars, and shops lined both sides of the street, with more vendors in stands out front. It was a perfect morning to go shopping: The sun was warm on the stone buildings and the markets were bustling… but with locals, not tourists or travelers. A small number of off-worlders were moving along the main drag, and every vendor along the way was clamoring to attract their attention.

There had been some very visible changes since the war, which seemed to explain why there were so few travelers in the streets. Animals from Onderon and Dxun were being shipped to Telos for the restoration project. The delay in customs checks meant the beasts were stored in several stockyards near the port, and the smell was terrible. The wall between the port and the Merchant Quarter was topped with automated blaster turrets. Soldiers were posted every block or so, watching everyone suspiciously. The new security restrictions seemed designed to intimidate, not protect.

Meetra paused as she heard an argument. She turned to see a squad of masked soldiers surrounding an older man. They were trying to cuff him and he was resisting. The lieutenant leading the squad was snapping at his subordinates. ""Let's hurry this up. I want him escorted out of here quickly."

"This is outrageous!" the old man spluttered. "I'm not a spy, I'm a journalist for Iziz Comm."

The lieutenant shook his head slowly. "You're a Republic spy and your propaganda will be silenced. We are taking you back to our barracks for interrogation."

The reporter recoiled. "What? Well, you can't be serious? You accuse me of propaganda? I have proof that Vaklu is withholding information on the so-called 'Republic…"

The lieutenant clamped his hand over the man's mouth. "One more word of treason out of you…" He noticed Meetra. "What are you looking at? This is none of your business."

"Please, ma'am, help me," the reporter pleaded. "Vaklu's troops won't listen. I- I'm just a journalist, not a spy."

Meetra glanced at the officer. "Do you have some sort of warrant?"

"A warrant?" the lieutenant asked incredulously. "General Vaklu passed an edict giving the military broad authority to detain and question anyone suspected of treasonous activity." He pointed to the journalist. "It was specifically meant for us to pick up spies like his before they leave Iziz or go underground."

 _Uh-huh._ Meetra crossed her arms. "Do you have proof of any sort?"

"That is classified military information," the officer replied stiffly.

"How many other journalists are being rounded up today?" Mical asked cleverly.

"I don't have time to answer your barbed questions, off-worlder," the lieutenant snarled.

Meetra smiled. "Better be sure you're on solid ground, locking up a reporter. If you're wrong, the press will be out for blood-and whose do you think they'll get?"

The lieutenant wavered. "Men… let him go. We'll be back with a court order. Then we'll take him to the barracks." He glared at Meetra. "And you… You should watch yourself. You don't want to be known for siding with people like him." The troopers turned and walked away.

The journalist watched them disappear around the corner, then turned to Meetra. "I don't know how to thank you. I'm getting out of Iziz now. Eventually they'll come back for me. After that, I have a feeling no one'll hear from me again. Thank you!" He headed upstairs to his apartment.

Mical turned to Meetra. "They're arresting reporters. What comes after that?"

Meetra nodded. "Indeed. Let's meet Ghent, find Kavar, and get off this rock fast."

Mandalore led them down the street to a large plaza with a tall statue in the center, and the Palace visible in the distance. A man was standing at the base of the statue, making a speech to a small crowd. Meetra listened distantly. The speaker was a pro-Vaklu secessionist; his talk was long on rhetoric and short on facts and logic. _Typical._ She walked on, following Mandalore through an archway and into a smaller square to the west. This was clearly not the bright and shiny part of the quarter. The streets were dirtier, there were no soldiers to be seen, and several armed sentients leaned against the buildings, sizing up the new arrivals.

"This is Dhagon Ghent's place." Mandalore stopped in front of a seedy-looking building with a medcenter symbol on the sign out front. "He's not the best doctor you'll ever meet, but he's well connected in this city. Doesn't look like he's here right now, though."

A local walked up behind them. "You looking for Dhagon? You're not going to find him here."

Meetra frowned. "Where is he?"

The man hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "A soldier captain was murdered at the cantina real good. They got some suspects at the tower. From what I hear, Dhagon Ghent is one of them."

"Do you think Dhagon did it?" Mical asked.

"Like I would know," the man replied, shrugging. "Iziz is a crazy place right now."

Mandalore nodded slowly. "Where is Dhagon now?"

The man pointed. "It's the turret tower on the other side of the market. Captain Riiken is the man to talk to; he commands the guards in the area, and it's his case."

"Thanks for the information," Meetra said.

* * *

The trio returned to the larger square and walked up to the base of the tower. Meetra asked for the captain and was told to wait. Riiken stepped out a minute or so later; he was in his late twenties, dark-skinned and bald, with a heavy beard. "Welcome to what must be the smelliest place in the universe, off-worlder. How can I assist you?"

"I understand you have a man named Dhagon Ghent in custody," Meetra said.

The captain nodded. "We certainly do. He and several other people were picked up in connection to a murder."

"Who was killed?" Meetra asked.

"Captain Sullio," Riiken replied. "She was in charge of the Starport checkpoint. A good soldier. Your friend was one of the last people that saw her alive. So far he's just a suspect. But if he did it… the punishment is death."

"How long will he be held?" asked Meetra. "Can I speak with him?"

Riiken crossed his arms. "No way. We're under orders to make sure no one sees the murder suspects. Command is taking this very seriously. He'll be in custody until we either eliminate him as a suspect or find the real killer. Dhagon has quite a record with the authorities. The Colonel thinks that murder isn't too far a stretch for someone like him." He put his hands on his hips, lowered his head, and sighed. "Look, I know Dhagon personally. He's one of the worst doctors I've ever heard of. But I can't see him deliberately killing someone. There was no witness to the actual murder, but he was one of the last people seen with Captain Sullio in the cantina. Ask around there. If you can somehow clear that up and prove it wasn't him, command will cut him loose. If I say any more I'll get in trouble." Meetra thanked the captain and headed for the cantina.

The establishment in question was a block or two from the starport's freight facilities. The clientele was a mix of spacers and locals. Most were drinking quietly enough, but one side room had been taken over by a boisterous swoop gang. Meetra spoke to Bahima, the Bith bartender. He told her of two people to talk to: a Twi'lek named Kiph, and a man called Nikko. Both had been present just before the murder, and both were currently in the bar.

Kiph was closer, so Meetra approached him first. He was a tall, green-skinned Twi'lek, with a thin, nervous face, thick neck, and high voice. He smiled when she walked up. "You're an off-worlder, right? My name is Kiph. Nice to see a friendly face. Iziz has been a hostile place for our kind lately."

Meetra went through the pleasantries, bought Kiph a drink, and got down to business. "I want to talk with you about Captain Sullio's murder."

Kiph sighed and nodded. "I had the misfortune of being here that night. It's very inconvenient. Soldiers were asking me some very pointed questions. Which is a no-no in my line of business."

"What, exactly, _is_ your line of business?" Mical asked.

"Most call me a slicer," Kiph replied. "But I think that sounds too crass. I prefer to think of myself as an expert computer security analyst." He shrugged. "My current employer is legitimate, an import-export company here in the city, but I have a history, as do many who frequent this cantina." Kiph sighed resignedly. "Once the murder investigation is at an end, the soldiers will come back for the small fish. Or not-they never seemed to pay the Quarter much attention before."

Meetra took a sip of her drink. "Do you know Dhagon Ghent?"

Kiph shook his head. "I do not know the doctor beyond recognizing his face, or Captain Sullio either. I normally try to leave the cantina before the more serious drinkers arrive. That night, I was very near Dhagon and Sullio. They were sitting with some others, spacers I believe, including two attractive females. Dhagon was attempting what I assume was a mating advance. Sullio began swearing at him, in front of the others. Many of the words I've never heard, but the ones I did understand I assure you were most impolite." He paused to down his glass. "Humiliation on that scale is real motive for a passionate and deadly response. I told the soldiers as much. They calmed somewhat and resumed their conversation, but later, Dhagon stood to leave with another man, to return to his office. Sullio insulted him again, this time denigrating his skill as a doctor. Sullio left a minute or two after Dhagon, then I heard the shots."

 _Well, that doesn't help much_. Meetra thanked Kiph and moved on to Nikko. The short, rosy-cheeked man was sitting alone at a pazaak table, waiting for a challenger. Meetra sat down across from him, pulled her side deck out and laid a hundred-credit chip on the table. Nikko smiled faintly-clearly, he expected to have her money in short order. They fed their cards into the table's automatic shuffler, and the game was on. The gambler was a pleasant sort, and made small talk as he won the first hand without even using a hand card. Meetra lost the second round-and the match-and laid down another hundred credits.

"So, what brings you to Onderon?" Nikko asked.

Meetra paused. "I'm here on behalf of Dhagon Ghent; I understand you were here the night of Captain Sullio's murder."

Nikko sat back in his chair, then shut off the pazaak table and handed Meetra her money back. "Dhagon is a good friend of mine. What do you want to know?"

"One of the witnesses said that Sullio deeply humiliated Dhagon the night she was murdered," Meetra said. "That's an awfully good motive."

"Oh no, by the four moons what a mix-up!" exclaimed Nikko. "They got it all wrong. Dhagon and Sullio were good friends. It's just when they got a little too much juma juice, they'd carry on. They'd call each other all manner of things. It could get quite hilarious, really. But it was just friendly banter. It may look strange on the outside. But it was just their habit, their way of passing time during these dark nights. Listen, if the soldiers think that's a motive, they just didn't do enough digging."

Mandalore tapped Meetra on the shoulder. "That bit of information will help with clearing Dhagon, but the Onderon military won't let him off that easy. They're very obstinate."

Meetra nodded. "So, what did you see the night of the murder?"

Nikko rubbed his chin. "I was cleaning up stakes from a particularly rewarding pazaak game when I heard a loud sound outside. I grabbed my blaster and went out the door. When I got out I saw Captain Sullio." He shook his head. "She was quite dead. Blood was everywhere. I heard a noise and saw Dhagon Ghent coming from his office across the courtyard. We both waited for the authorities to get there. The next day they picked up Dhagon and several other people in the area. It's crazy to think he did it. Sullio was our friend."

"It might be a good idea to look at the crime scene," said Mandalore. "The Onderonian military are soldiers, not professional police. If they didn't dig deep enough to find out that Sullio insulted Dhagon all the time, they might have overlooked something there, too."

Meetra agreed and the trio headed out of the cantina. There was a small section of street cordoned off, near an alley running along the side of the cantina. There was carbon scoring on the wall, and bloodstains on the ground. It was pretty clear what had happened-the attacker had surprised Sullio, shot her at close range, and then escaped down the alley. Meetra looked around and paused. There was a wrecked droid in the alley, near a trash skip.

Mandalore scratched his chin. "Nobody we talked with mentioned a droid." He crouched down to examine it. "This droid was destroyed recently. Its chest is blown in, and the head is gone. You know what I think?"

"This droid saw the murder," Meetra breathed. "The killer blasted it and took the head to cover up the crime."

All three of them spun at a sound from down the alley. A man lurched out of the shadows. He was middle-aged and balding, with a full beard. His hair might have been any color, it was so filthy there was no way to tell. His clothes were torn and grimy, and he reeked of cheap booze. He muttered under his breath and took a swig from a bottle he was carrying inside his coat.

Meetra didn't hesitate. "Excuse me, sir? I wonder if you saw what happened to this droid's head."

"Told them before, don't know nothing," the vagrant grunted. "Told them, leave me be, I'm minding my own… leave me 'lone!"

"Please, talk to us," Mical said, stepping forward. "A man's life is at stake!"

The vagrant emptied the bottle and tossed it aside. "Space yourself, off-worlder." He pushed past Mical and stumbled off down the street, weaving noticeably.

Meetra turned to follow, but Mical clamped his hand on her forearm. "That's no bum." He held up a data card. "Brush-pass, when he ran into me. We've gotten mixed up in something here. That man is Republic Intelligence."

* * *

 **A/N: For whatever reason, I think this murder investigation quest works better than the two in KotOR I. Dunno why, exactly.**


	33. Onderon, part two

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, Stargate, or Star Trek.**

* * *

The card had an address on it, along with a couple of seemingly random words. It might be a trap, but Meetra decided to go anyway. The address turned out to be a vacant storefront. Mical did the rest; the words on the card were actually coded route instructions for someone with Republic Intelligence training. Fifteen minutes later, they walked into a nondescript repair shop. Mical led the way behind the counter and into the back room.

The 'vagrant' was waiting for them. He had cleaned up and was wearing a dark gray-green tunic and light gray trousers. His hair was red, with a little gray at the temples. He reminded Meetra of someone, but she couldn't figure out who. He smirked at Mical. "Hey there, 'Professor.' Aren't you supposed to be on Dantooine?"

"I made contact, but then my cover was blown." Mical smiled at Meetra. "She made me right away, and was nice enough to let me tag along."

The red-haired man turned to Meetra. "I thought it was you. I served in the Mandalorian Wars with you. You're a Jedi, right? General Surik?"

"I am," Meetra replied. "You look familiar, too."

"My name is Xaart," he said. "I was one of the ground troops. We fought on Dagary Minor together. It was near the beginning of the war. We, uh, we didn't win that battle."

Meetra winced. "I remember Dagary Minor."

"Enough of the past," Xaart said. "The whole galaxy isn't safe for Jedi now. Especially here. Onderon has suffered through three wars started by fallen Jedi. There's talk of secession, and lots more going on beneath the surface."

"And Sullio's murder is connected?" Mical asked.

Xaart nodded grimly. "You already know I'm Republic Intelligence. I was sent by the Republic Senate to investigate certain delicate matters that are happening on Onderon. Now, I can't tell you _exactly_ what I was doing here, but Dhagon Ghent is one of my agents, and so was Sullio. I was with Ghent in his office at the time of the shooting, but I can't alibi him-it'd blow my cover, and his." He crossed his arms. "From what I've gathered, I don't think Dhagon and Sullio were blown. If the Onderonians learned of an intelligence operation underway, they'd have the agents arrested-you can't interrogate dead people."

"So, what's your theory?" asked Mandalore.

"I think the murder is part of the civil war that's brewing," Xaart replied. "Sullio was a royalist; she was in charge of the starport checkpoint. Now she's dead, and her replacement is Major Travar Wilcapp, a staunch Vaklu supporter. Draw your own conclusions."

Mical nodded. "And Dhagon?"

Xaart shrugged. "He's got a criminal record and was seen arguing with Sullio, making him a convenient person to pin the blame on. But the courts on Onderon are still fair. They can't convict him if there's proof he's innocent-proof I've got." He opened a hidden compartment in the wall and brought out a badly scorched droid's head. "One problem: the blaster bolts damaged the circuitry. The last few seconds of the record need to be reconstructed. I don't have the skill for that."

"I know a Twi'lek who does." Meetra smiled and took the head. "Thank you, Xaart. We'll get your man back." The trio slipped out of the shop and headed back towards the cantina.

* * *

Kiph was still at his table, sipping a drink idly while he worked on his datapad. Meetra sat down across from him. "Kiph, I need your help."

The Twi'lek looked up. "What is it? I have told you everything I know about the murder."

"Yes, but there were things you _didn't_ know." Meetra leaned forward. "Ghent and Sullio were friends. The insults were an odd sort of flirtation."

" _What?_ " Kiph jerked in his seat; his lekku writhed for a moment. "You mean he might be innocent?"

Meetra nodded urgently. "I think so. I have something that may prove it, but I need a computer specialist." She set the head on the table.

"That is S-0D3, Bahima's serving droid." Kiph frowned. "What happened to it?"

"He saw the murder, Kiph." Meetra angled the head to better show the damage. "The killer blasted the droid to try and destroy the evidence. Can you recover it?"

Kiph connected his datapad to a port on the back of the droid's head. "I can indeed. Give me a moment."

It was longer than a moment, but shorter than an hour. Meetra brought Nikko over to watch the reconstructed footage. They began three minutes before the droid was shot, around the time Dhagon left the bar. The droid was in the kitchen, bagging garbage. This section of town had old-fashioned trash pickup instead of plasma incinerators; S-0D3 carried the bags out the back door and into the alley. He tossed the bags into a trash skip-the same one they'd found him next to. As he closed the lid, the sound of blaster fire came from the street. The droid looked up in time to see the third shot hit Sullio. She fell to the ground, blood spreading from beneath her. S-0D3 ran up to her. "Hello there? What is this? Oh my, she's dead!"

A burst of blaster fire struck the droid square in the chest. He spun to his right as he fell, looking toward the marketplace. There was a brief view of a figure in armor-from the waist down-before the last shot struck the camera. The feed cut out.

"There's no way that Dhagon could have done it," Nikko said, relieved. "I saw him coming from his office. That's the opposite direction of the marketplace. We should go talk to Captain Riiken and clear all of this up."

Meetra agreed, and they ran to the tower before the evening shift change. Riiken was standing out front. "Nikko, is it? And the off-worlder. What brings the two of you here?"

"Dhagon Ghent couldn't have killed Captain Sullio," Meetra said.

"That's a bold statement," Riiken said skeptically. "I assume you have some sort of proof?"

"It's a long story, so bear with me, Captain," Nikko began. "The night of the murder I was playing pazaak. It was a prosperous night…"

The story took about ten minutes. Meetra explained the newly found record by saying that a salvager had stripped the droid before the soldiers arrived at the scene. When they finished, Riiken was nodding. "That should do it. We still don't know who killed Sullio, but this will greatly assist our investigation."

"You have been ordered off this investigation, captain." The speaker was an older man with a major's uniform, walking up to them. "I hope you can explain yourself."

"Major Wilcapp." Riiken came to attention and saluted. "I had nothing to do with this, sir. This citizen found information about Captain Sullio's murder. It's material to the investigation."

Wilcapp crossed his arms. "We've already got our man. Sullio and this Ghent were fighting the night she was murdered. He had ample motive."

"I was a friend of both of them, major." Nikko chuckled and shook his head. "They did that every time they drank together. Bahima, the bartender, can confirm it, as well as half a dozen other people. They were an odd pair, but they certainly didn't hate each other."

"That's as may be," the major said doubtfully. "But Ghent has a criminal record. Scum turn on their friends all the time. He was at the scene of the crime, and he did not have an alibi."

Meetra smiled. "He was at the scene, all right. Nikko testified to that. But he came from his office, and a recording of the murder shows the shot came from the other direction."

Wilcapp's eyes widened. "You have a recording? I'm sure you're just misinterpreting it."

"I've seen it myself, major," Riiken interjected. "Nikko isn't the only one that spotted Dhagon coming from his office. It really can't be Dhagon Ghent. The real killer is still loose."

"Very _well_ , captain!" Wilcapp sounded almost petulant. "Set Ghent free, then. But if later it turns out he did do it, it's going to be on your head." He spun on his heel and walked away.

"The men will be working on getting Dhagon out right away. The major sure isn't happy." Riiken chuckled. "You're quite a team. Together you got the major to back down. That's no small feat."

Meetra shook the captain's hand. "Thank you for your help, Captain Riiken. I'm going to head back to wait at his office."

They walked back to the Western Square. Nikko pursed his lips. "Thanks for getting Dhagon out. I'll take my leave now. Dhagon is my friend, but whatever your business with him, I don't want to be involved any further." He headed into the cantina.

* * *

It was about an hour later that Dhagon Ghent walked up. He was a pale, middle-aged man, about Meetra's height, and completely bald. He wore a red tunic and tan pants. "Thanks for getting me out of there. As detention cells go, it had definite class. But I prefer being out on my own all the same. I owe you and Mandalore one."

He opened the door and led the way into his office. It was a mess; the place had been ransacked. Drawers and cabinets were open and their contents had been spilled all over the floor. Dhagon groaned and began looking over the damage. "Painkillers are gone, that's to be expected. They didn't rip the equipment out; guess they didn't have time."

"Mandalore said you might be able to help me out," said Meetra. "I'm looking for someone-a Jedi Master by the name of Kavar."

Ghent raised his eyebrows. "A Jedi Master, you say? Now that _is_ interesting. You know, there's rumors going around that there is a Jedi in the Palace, one of Queen Talia's advisors. I can get a message in there, but I need something from you."

Meetra sighed. "How much?"

"It ain't like that," said Dhagon, raising his hands defensively. "You saved me from a murder charge, and I owe you. Whoever robbed me took a set of encrypted holodisks. The people I know you don't just walk up and chat with. There's a procedure. And that holodisk has the procedure." He crossed his arms. "Bakkel's gang pretty much owns this street. From what I hear she's the one that cleaned me out. She's in the local cantina most days. She's tough as drexl leather and more dangerous than an angry Wookiee. If you take Mandalore with you, though, you should be just fine. Just get me the encrypted holodisk. After that, if there is a Jedi Master in the Palace, I'll get you a meeting with him."

Nikko was at the pazaak tables when Meetra walked back into the bar. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Where can I find Bakkel?"

The gambler blanched. He pointed to a curtained archway off the main bar, then got up and hustled out of the cantina. Meetra headed back to the private room, which had its own bar and entertainment system. Bakkel's people were swoop jockeys; there had to be at least a dozen rough-looking men and women in riding leathers. One gang member was behind the bar. Others were drinking and laughing. Meetra paused and looked closer. The padded black-and-chrome outfits looked a _lot_ like the armor the murderer had been wearing. She glanced at Mandalore, who nodded, then murmured to Mical. "No lightsabers. No obvious Force."

He nodded, and Meetra walked into the room. The laughing and joking died down. The gang members looked the trio over, open hostility on their faces. A thirtyish, red-headed woman stepped forward. "What do you want here, off-worlder? The room is taken. The whole cantina is taken. You should leave."

 _This must be Bakkel._ "You have something that belongs to Dhagon Ghent," Meetra said quietly. "A set of holodisks. I need them; I can pay well."

"They aren't for sale," Bakkel said. "Now get out, while you can."

Meetra sighed. "I can't take no for an answer, Bakkel. I can't leave without those disks."

Bakkel's face twisted into a snarl. "I warned you, off-worlder. _Kill her!_ "

The swoop gang sprang into action, but Meetra and the others were already moving. Mandalore ducked a haymaker from one thug, then grabbed him and threw him over the bar. The swoop jock crashed into the bartender and both went down in a heap. Meetra knocked Bakkel backwards, then ducked another thug swinging a chair. He wound up for another swing, but Mical grabbed the chair and smashed it into the thug's head. Someone broke a bottle over Mandalore's head; he shook himself, turned around, and knocked the biker out with one punch. The bartender was back up and going for something behind the bar. Meetra rushed him as he brought up a scatter blaster. She grabbed the barrel and forced it up. The gun went off, blowing a hole in the ceiling. Meetra jerked the blaster out of the bartender's hand and clubbed him with it, knocking him out and rendering the weapon useless. Two thugs grabbed Mandalore from behind while a third drew a knife. Mandalore kicked the jock with the knife, then slammed the other two into the walls. Meetra and Mical finished the remaining thugs with a flurry of punches and kicks.

Meetra grabbed Bakkel by the collar and lifted her off the floor. "Holodisks. _Now_."

Bakkel nodded weakly and pulled a small case out of her jacket. Meetra took it, dropped Bakkel, and walked out, leaving the bikers groaning and trying to stand.

Dhagon accepted the holodisks happily, then went to send his message. They received an answer later that night: Kavar was indeed in the Palace. He would meet them in the cantina the next morning. Meetra and her companions spent the night on hospital beds in Dhagon's clinic, then headed out. The cantina was full of people, night shift from the docks coming off work. Meetra and the others found a table and waited.

Kavar arrived about half an hour later. "You must have gone through a lot to arrange this meeting. The Palace is at full battle readiness. Smuggling in a message is no small task."

Meetra chuckled. "I have my ways, Master Kavar."

"Kavar, huh? The famed Jedi Guardian?" Mandalore sized up the blonde Master. "The Mandalorians counted on the fact that it would be you, not Revan, who would lead the Jedi against us during the Mandalorian Wars. I wonder how we'd have fared against you. I thought you were killed fighting Malak during the Jedi Civil War."

"It seems my former student keeps curious company. Strange times lead to strange alliances, though." Kavar smiled. "I have my ways as well. Why are you here? I imagine that you hold little love for any on the Jedi Council any more, even an old friend."

"You know why." Meetra met Kavar's eyes. "I need to know what happened to me, and why you cast me out of the Order."

Kavar sighed. "You have to understand that it was a time of great uncertainty. We just learned that Darth Revan was back with an armada. But there's more to it than that. And I think you deserve an expl-"

"Am I interrupting?" Colonel Tobin strode into the cantina at the head of a squad of soldiers. Bakkel was behind him, with at least thirty of her thugs. "In orbit, I was sure that the _Ebon Hawk_ was mine. I was certain. Only to see you slip through my fingers during the battle. Imagine my delight to discover you were on Iziz. Quite careless, if you ask me." He snapped his fingers. "Get them, men! And watch your aim. Civilian casualties cause a mess of paperwork."

Nobody fired; the bikers and soldiers were all frozen in place, except for Tobin himself. Kavar lowered his hands and stood. "I must return to the Palace. I'll get word to you when I'm able. _Run!_ "

He dashed past Tobin, who swore. "What have you done to my men? Blast! Men, take care of them. I won't let Kavar escape!" He turned and pursued the Master, pulling out his comlink. "Major Wilcapp, lock down the starport. Major Kesim, Kavar is headed your way. Don't let him reach the Sky Ramp!"

As Kavar and Tobin disappeared out the door, the troopers and thugs began to recover. Mical glanced at Meetra. "Can we be obvious now, Master?"

"Damn right!" Meetra and Mical drew their sabers and took on the soldiers, who came on with vibroswords.

Mandalore pulled his pistol; the grey-white bolts turned anything they hit to ashes. The bikers tried to stand and fight, but lost their nerve when Bakkel was reduced to a pile of black dust. The big man grinned. "Mandalorian disintegrator, accept no substitutes!"

Meetra ran to the door and beckoned. She took one side while Mical and Mandalore stacked up on the other. The two Jedi went through the door almost simultaneously, deflecting the storm of fire from the troops waiting outside. Mandalore brought up the rear, firing back at the Onderonians. They broke the perimeter and ran through the market. Meetra rounded a corner and skidded to a halt: the main square was guarded by tanks and APCs. More soldiers were going door to door, searching for the fugitives. The merchants and shoppers were standing outside, waiting to be allowed back in. Jedi could take the vehicles out easily, but there were dozens of civilians in the line of fire. Meetra edged back the way they had come, angling for an alley. They were able to slip off the street without notice, but when they emerged onto the next block, a landspeeder pulled up in front of them. Captain Riiken stepped out, smiling slightly.

"You Jedi live up to the stories." The captain leaned against the speeder, arms folded across his chest. "You took out a PDF squad and Bakkel's entire crew like they were kids playing zap-tag. A couple people like you could cause a lot of havoc; explains why the Colonel wants you dead so badly. You'll never reach the starport on foot." He jerked his head towards the speeder. "It has to be believable."

Meetra nodded. "I'm sorry." She blew him backwards into a wall; Riiken fell unconscious. They got into the speeder and raced through the streets with the siren blaring. They approached the port, but the entrance was blocked with a fence-field. Turrets covered the small plaza in front. She accelerated, shouting for the others to jump. The trio bailed out as the speeder careened into the checkpoint. The explosion wrecked two turrets and left a gaping hole where a much smaller gate had been. They ran for the shuttle, swatting aside enemy fire. Mandalore raced ahead, climbing into the cockpit as the others piled in behind him. The shuttle lifted off, twisting and spinning to avoid fire from the gun towers.

Mandalore hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Somebody get on that tail gun!"

Meetra ran aft, strapping into the rear-facing gunner's chair. They were about halfway out of the atmosphere, and what looked like half the turrets in the city were blazing away at them. Meetra was briefly surprised when the cannon ceased firing, but then understood as she saw several black dots rising from the city. She recognized the twin-tailed silhouette of S-100 Stingers. Meetra started the guns warming up and toggled the comm. "Mandalore, we've got company in back!"

"In front, too." Mandalore sounded almost cheerful. "I'm going to blow through them; keep them off our tail."

The Stingers closed in, cannon flashing. Mandalore returned fire with the triple-barrel cannon on the right wing. Two fighters blew and the shuttle roared through the gap. The rest gave chase, filling the sky with blaster bolts as Meetra returned fire. An alarm sounded as the Stingers began locking torpedoes. Mandalore's G-wing had a few more tricks than the _Hawk_ ; he popped decoys and activated a sensor jammer. More fighters closed in from the customs checkpoint in orbit.

Mandalore swore and turned away from Dxun. "Jedi, I can't return to Dxun. I'd lead them right to my camp." He checked his readouts. "Mical, get on the comm. Tell Bralor that I'm headed for rendezvous point Esk. Tell him to have your crew meet us there in the freighter, and bring Kelborn with them."

The shuttle zigzagged away from Onderon, with the fighters close behind. Mandalore handled the ship brilliantly, reaching the edge of Onderon's gravity well and jumping to hyperspace. It was a precise inter-system jump; they came out behind Twing, the seventh planet of Onderon's sun Prael. 'Point Esk' was in orbit above one of the gas giant's 22 moons. Mandalore donned his armor while they waited. The _Hawk_ arrived a half hour later, and the two ships docked.

Mandalore crossed into the starboard dormitory, acknowledging Kelborn's salute. "Bring my gear aboard, then take the shuttle back to camp once things cool down." Kelborn walked past into the G-wing; Mandalore turned to Meetra. "I'm not ready to part company just yet. I'm going with you. The Sith have taken a particular interest in you, and you could use an extra blaster."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "That sounds altruistic. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I don't have it in me, it's a matter of self-interest," Mandalore said flatly. "If the Jedi Order is destroyed for good, it's inevitable that the Sith will dominate the Republic. And then my people will be eradicated or enslaved. Helping your cause is a matter of necessity. Mandalorians helped Exar Kun during his war. We know first-hand how we'd fare in the service of their like."

"I'm happy to have you along, Mandalore." Meetra smiled wryly and shook hands. "And when the time comes, I will be honored to fight at your side." She turned to the others. "I will want you to spend some time in meditation, to prepare yourselves for the mission to come. Our next destination is Korriban."

* * *

 **A/N: So, last party member on board... pretty much just in time for the endgame.**


	34. Korriban, part one

**Disclaimer: I've been writing these damn things for over a hundred chapters now... I'm running low on gags.**

* * *

The Sith homeworld didn't look evil from orbit. It had the appearance of many 'borderline' worlds: Red-brown, rocky terrain with little surface water, swept by icy winds. Not a great prospect for colonization, but perhaps worth mineral exploration, or a fuel stop. Korriban would have been just another dull rock, but for the darkness which had taken root in the canyons and grown to menace the stars.

The Czerka Corporation had built a small spaceport, Dreshdae, to service the Sith Academy during the Jedi Civil War. Atton made a circle over the port and the Academy complex. There was no visible activity, and nothing on sensors but for some still-active electronics. The upper entrance to the Academy was caved in-there was no way to get in from the Dreshdae pad. The _Hawk_ flared to a landing in the Valley of the Dark Lords, beneath four massive statues watching over the tombs. The crew gathered in the main hold; the Jedi's stomachs were twisting from the dark side all around.

"We've hit the ground. This is Korriban," Atton said nervously. "Why would one of the Jedi you're looking for come here?"

Visas shivered. "It seems quiet, just the wind… but deep beneath the surface, you can feel the pain of what took place here. There is great power in this place-for those who can hear its call."

"There is much that would draw a Jedi to this place," said Kreia. "The resting grounds of the ancient-and more recently departed-Sith contain many teachings believed lost. The most likely place to find our lost Jedi is the ruins of the old Academy."

"What happened here?" Meetra asked.

Kreia folded her arms. "It was said that Revan intended to return to Korriban to subdue any potential Sith insurgents. But Revan disappeared. It took a year or two for the Republic to send a force here to deal with any Sith that may have remained. They found Korriban much as we have-barren and lifeless. It was assumed that the remnants of the Sith turned on each other, vying for what little power remained. The Republic found evidence that several Sith Lords escaped Korriban, fleeing to remote sections of the galaxy."

Handmaiden fingered her saber hilt. "Do you think there are any living Sith here?"

"As lifeless as it seems the dark side is very strong here," Kreia replied. "The Sith Lords would not ignore such a powerful place. There is much that can be learned, even here." She turned to Meetra. "If you walk Korriban's surface, you shall walk it without me."

Meetra frowned. "Why won't you come with us?"

Kreia shook her head. "I cannot. This place is strong with the dark side; it is difficult to center myself here. Korriban holds few secrets from me… but much that you should learn. I would caution you to guard your feelings carefully here-Korriban attacks the spirit and the body, and there have been few who can fight its power."

"Very well," said Meetra. "Stay here, and keep the engines primed in case we need to leave quickly." She glanced at Mandalore. "You and the droids will stay behind too. Keep a lookout, and be ready for anything."

Kreia chuckled grimly. "On this world, 'ready for anything' can mean a great deal." She pointed to the south. "The Academy lies at the end of this valley. Be careful. Dark energy fills these ruins… and even the fallen Sith live still."

Meetra stood and looked from one of her students to the next. "You heard Kreia-guard your feelings. You cannot afford arrogance, or fear, or hate. The dark side is strong here. It will pull at you, tempt you. Do not listen-there is nothing down that path."

The ramp dropped, and the Jedi walked out onto the valley floor. Behind them, the others settled down to wait. Kreia meditated in the dormitory, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. HK-47 rode up the maintenance lift and posted himself atop the ship. Mandalore walked a perimeter around the freighter, carrying the largest repeating blaster Meetra had ever seen. T3 dropped the chin turret, and G0-T0 monitored the sensors.

Meetra began walking south, with the others spread out behind her. Kreia spoke in their minds. _The structures around you are the plundered tombs of the ancient Sith Lords. Each tomb was once infused with the history and heritage of the old Sith Empire, containing great mysteries and powerful relics of the Force. However, even the many traps could not long hold back the curious, the fools, and the weak. And so these tombs fell, spilling their secrets into the hands of those unable to comprehend or preserve them._

"What is _that?_ " Mira asked. Meetra turned to see where she was pointing and stopped short. A massive, half-rotten corpse lay on the valley floor, near some rubble. It had shiny brown skin, razor-sharp claws, and teeth out of a nightmare.

Mical blanched. "Force preserve us, it's a terentatek! They are monsters, creations of ancient Sith alchemy. They hunger for the blood of those strong in the Force, and resist most Jedi skills. We're extremely lucky this one is dead."

 _You would be wise to remain cautions nonetheless,_ Kreia warned. _There may be more nearby, or other dark-side beasts such as hssiss. Beyond that, Korriban is home to more mundane threats such as shyrack and tuk'ata._

"Not to mention the possibility of Sith hiding here." Meetra sighed. "Let's keep going. Move in pairs and watch out for trouble."

They hadn't gone far when something made a noise off to the right. A small pile of gravel had shifted and fallen down an incline, but there was no sign of what had moved it. Meetra snapped her fingers; Atton and Handmaiden turned to face the right flank.

"Be careful," Meetra called. "I think we're dealing with hssiss."

 _Hssiss are semi-intelligent beasts, corrupted and strengthened by prolonged exposure to the dark side,_ Kreia said in their minds. _As creatures of the Force, they have a limited ability to mask their presence. Hssiss are drawn to suffering and carnage. They must have fed on all the corpses left over from the war here on Korriban. The angry phantoms of the Sith, too weak to influence the sentient, have taken these hssiss as thralls to their will._

Atton brightened. "We're in a desert, not a jungle." He sent a push forward and down, raising a cloud of fine red dust. It swept across the valley floor, parting around a large shape. The hssiss realized it had been spotted and revealed itself. It was dark green-black, with spiky scales and a thick, whip-like tail. It snarled at them, showing about four dozen teeth. Atton faced the creature and waited. Another hssiss lunged at him from the side, trying to get Atton while he was focused on the first beast. Atton ducked without even looking; the beast went right over him and Handmaiden sliced it in half. Atton grinned. "They think they're clever."

More hssiss attacked from all sides. Meetra's students fought in pairs, while she took one of the beasts on her own. The hssiss' tough hide was somewhat resistant to lightsabers; they would cut, but like a vibroblade against fiber armor. The beast twisted away from her first attack, then darted forward to headbutt her. Meetra was staggered and the hssiss reared up to bite. She stepped to the side and brought her blade around, leaving a deep cut on the side of its neck. The hssiss roared in pain and Meetra struck with both sabers. The monster's head landed two meters away; Meetra turned to see if the others needed help. Mical and Visas had one of the hssiss trapped between them, and were maneuvering for a finishing blow. Handmaiden and Atton had already killed the hssiss which had attacked them, and were watching out for more. Mira and Bao-Dur were facing _two_ of the creatures. Meetra moved to help them, but another hssiss cut her off. She fought desperately, trying to get past the hssiss to help her companions. One of the hssiss turned sharply to whip Bao-Dur with its tail. The Zabrak caught the tail, then doused his lightsaber, took a two-handed grip, and slammed the creature into the rocks before hurling it into the other hssiss. They went down in a heap and Mira finished one off. The other tried to snap at her, but Bao-Dur brought his repulsor fist down on top of its head, caving in the thick skull. The hssiss facing Meetra fled, cloaking as it crawled away.

"So much for the welcoming committee." Mira clipped her saber to her belt. "Let's go."

* * *

They walked on, beneath the gaze of the statues which towered over the valley. Meetra decided to use the walk to test her students' knowledge of history. "There are four major tombs in the Valley of the Dark Lords, four black names in the history of the galaxy. We are passing the tomb of Ajunta Pall. Mical, who was he?"

"He was the leader of the Dark Jedi who broke off during the Second Great Schism," the young man replied. "Pall survived the Hundred-Year Darkness, and was banished from the Republic, along with his followers. They wandered through the Rim, and eventually found their way here." He shook his head. "It was long ago, around the time Jedi first learned to craft lightsabers. Back then, 'Sith' did not mean an empire of the dark side, but referred to the species which inhabited this world. The Dark Jedi conquered the planet, and Pall became the first Dark Lord of the Sith."

 _Ajunta's dark specter lived on through the centuries_ , _until Revan entered the Sith Lord's tomb,_ Kreia said _. Revan calmed the angry ghost of Ajunta Pall and showed him the path back to the light._

"You sound like you disapprove," Atton said softly.

 _One who has fallen so far, and done so much evil does not deserve redemption,_ Kreia replied. _In a way, such a turning from one's nature is cowardly, a betrayal of the self._

Visas shook her head. "No one is beneath redemption, Kreia. No one."

 _None at all, seer?_ Kreia asked mildly. _What of your master? If he repents, will you forgive him?_

"I…" Visas' voice trailed off.

Meetra cleared her throat. "The Dark Jedi interbred with the local people, until the Sith were a race of mixed ancestry. A series of powerful Sith Lords arose, leading an expansion of the empire. They went to war, conquering many nearby systems. This was the time of Andeddu, the first Sith to use the title of Darth, and Tulak Hord, whose tomb is next to Pall's."

 _Hord was known has the greatest lightsaber duelist of the Sith Lords,_ Kreia added. _His skill was considered remarkable even in his time, when many true lightsaber masters lived._

"Are you saying modern Jedi are poorly skilled with the lightsaber?" Handmaiden asked.

Kreia chuckled. _If you were to face an ancient Sith Lord in combat, you would learn that we are as children playing with toys compared to the prowess of the old Masters._

"The Sith referred to this time as their Golden Age," Meetra continued. She pointed to a tomb on the other side of the valley. "The Golden Age ended with the death of Sith Lord Marka Ragnos."

 _Ragnos held power for more than a century,_ _using his cunning to turn his enemies against each other,_ said Kreia. _His death left a great vacuum of power. You're standing close to the spot where Naga Sadow first confronted Ludo Kressh to vie for domination of the Sith. It was not their duel which decided the leadership of the Sith, but fate. A pair of hyperspace explorers from Cinnagar landed on Korriban in the midst of Ragnos' funeral. Naga Sadow manipulated the Sith into believing they were a sign of impending Republic invasion._

Meetra nodded. "The explorers were Gav and Jori Daragon, brother and sister. Sadow used their charts to plot a route back to the Republic, and take revenge for the banishment of his ancestors. It had been two thousand years, and the Jedi had no idea what was coming."

"The Great Hyperspace War." Bao-Dur shook his head. "Naga Sadow came out of nowhere and hit Empress Teta in the Deep Core, then Coruscant itself. It took everything the Republic and Jedi had to stop him."

"But they _did_ stop him, and then they pushed him back." Mical crossed his arms. "Master Odan-Urr led the counterattack, and eventually drove the Sith back into their own territory. Ludo Kressh led a revolt against Sadow, who was driven into exile on Yavin 4. His war started here, and he ended here, too." He indicated the fourth and final tomb.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Meetra. "Sith have a habit of leaving their mark, even after their death. Freedon Nadd was Sadow's apprentice on Yavin. Ragnos, Nadd, and Sadow, as spirits, were responsible for the Krath cult on Empress Teta, the Naddists on Onderon, and the fall of Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma-which led to the Mandalorian Wars, and the Sith we face now."

Handmaiden shook her head. "Jedi leave a legacy, too. Odan-Urr taught Battle Meditation to Nomi Sunrider, and established the Great Jedi Library on Ossus. Ossus may be gone, but the knowledge remains, on Coruscant, and in Atris' archives."

"Finish the story, Master." Mical smiled. "Nomi Sunrider was able to turn Ulic away from the dark side. He trained her daughter Vima… who taught _you_."

"Fair enough." Meetra chuckled. "Since we're at _now_ now, I suppose we'd better get on with our mission, or there'll be no more history to teach."

They left the valley floor, following a winding path uphill to the Academy. Meetra's stomach churned more and more with every step. The building was carved into the living rock; the doors were dark red-brown stone and ornately carved. Meetra hit the door control. The gate slid open with a rumbling creak, revealing the murky shadows inside.

Atton sighed. "Do I even have to say it?"

"No, you don't," Bao-Dur said resignedly. "We've _all_ got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

Meetra led the way through the gate and into the Sith Academy. The group was perhaps three meters inside when the gate shut behind them. There were several loud bangs as a dozen locking bolts slammed home.

Mira rolled her eyes. "And… it's a trap." She tried her lightsaber on the door; predictably, there was no effect. "Master, I don't know what this door is made of, but it isn't local stone. It's saber-proof and incredibly dense."

"It will have been created with Sith alchemy," said Mical. "The ancient Sith were masters at using the Force to alter materials."

Mira nodded. "Whatever it is, I can't blow it without bringing most of the mountain down. We're stuck in here until we can get the door open."

"Prepare yourselves." Meetra's voice was calm and deadly serious. "You've fought beasts and thugs and troopers. This will be different. This will be Sith. Be on your guard and look out for each other. We need to find Master Lonna and escape as quickly as we can."

They walked forward into a wide chamber. There were small niches, tables, and shelving units around the walls. Meetra recognized the same type of common study area often found in a university, or a Jedi school. As their eyes adjusted to the dark, they saw toppled statues, debris, and a dead tuk'ata. There was nothing of use, so they kept moving. The corridor sloped upward, to a large round room lit by skylights. The passage leading to Dreshdae was straight ahead, but it was blocked by rubble. They began searching. The hangar bay opened out onto a sheer cliff; there was no way down. Meetra considered having Mandalore fly the _Hawk_ to them, but dismissed it: the hangar roof was partially collapsed, and the opening was too small. There was a working computer in the hangar bay. Atton took a shot at slicing it, but the security was too good. T3 could have cracked it, but there was no way to get him in. Atton was able to get a complete layout of the building. It didn't show what had been blocked, but it was something.

They were leaving the hangar when the attack came. Two black-clad figures rushed in from the right, angling for Mical. He blocked one, but the other caught him in the ribs with a staff blow. Mical grunted in pain and whipped his free hand upward, forming a cyclone beneath the assassin's feet. The Sith was thrown in the air, where Visas slashed him apart. Mical faced down the remaining attacker, who angled his staff. Two more Sith tried to surprise the Jedi from the far side; Atton and Handmaiden made short work of them. Mical finished the last one off.

Atton knelt to check the Sith he'd killed. "I remember these murglaks." He glanced up at Meetra. "It's a good bet that sleeps-with-vibroblades is around, too."

"Be calm." Meetra closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, concentrating on the sound of rushing air. "Four assassins is not enough to hurt us. The Sith are trying to intimidate you. Fear and doubt will weaken you, and strengthen them. Trust in the Force, and in those beside you." She opened her eyes. "Keep moving."

They found the library. The records had been removed, leaving only a handful of broken datacards and a malfunctioning console. The training room was full of starving tuk'ata, which attacked, but weren't a serious threat. The Jedi fought the beasts off without trouble. A hallway full of gas traps slowed them down, but Meetra and Mira could pass safely, and shut down the system. The door at the end of the hall was sealed; the map listed it as the 'punishment room.' Meetra pounded on the door, but heard nothing from inside. The lock required a physical key, in addition to a code. Mira could blow the door, but Meetra was afraid Lonna Vash was inside, and might be hurt. The most likely place to find the key was in the old Master's quarters-or on one of the Sith. They headed back across the large room to the living area. The apprentice rooms looked lived-in; Meetra assumed that the Sith were using them. There were definitely more than four assassins here. The Master's quarters were shut tight.

Mira checked and smiled. "This door, I can work with." She affixed six small charges to the stone around the door, set timers, and backed up. The explosions were loud in the stone hallway, and dust rained down from the ceiling. When the smoke cleared, nothing seemed to have changed. Mira walked up to the door and gave it a gentle poke with one finger. The door tipped over backwards and fell into the room. Mira gestured to Meetra. "After you."

Meetra stepped into the room; her heart sank. The key was sitting in the open on the bedside table, atop a square of black silk. It had clearly been left for her to find. She sighed, took the key, and led the way back to the torture room, struggling to keep calm. The key turned smoothly in the lock.

Lonna Vash was lying crumpled on the floor of an old-fashioned metal cage. She'd been dead less than a week; her robes were tattered and bloodstained, and every inch of her body was covered with cuts, burns, and welts. Many more wounds had healed and scarred, with new injuries laid down over them. She'd clearly been tortured for weeks or even months. Meetra lowered her head; she'd known Lonna was dead as soon as she saw the key, but it still hurt.

Mical laid a hand on her shoulder. "Master."

Meetra looked back up and startled slightly. Master Lonna's spirit was standing in front of her, smiling gently. "Hello, Meetra. It's been a long time."

"Too long." Meetra couldn't hold back the tears. "I'm sorry I didn't get here in time."

"But you _did_ , Meetra." Vash spread her hands. "My life-the life of any Jedi-is unimportant. What is important is this conversation." She nodded to the others standing behind Meetra. "I see you have followers once more. That's good-you need them, and they need you. That was always your way, and Revan's."

"I need answers, Master." Meetra searched Lonna's face. "Why did Revan turn on the Republic? Why did you cast me out? _What happened to me?_ "

Lonna shook her head sadly. "I cannot tell you, Meetra. It is no longer my place to interfere in this existence." She spread her hands to indicate her transparent form. "You _will_ learn the truth, Meetra, I have seen it. You are not ready yet; you have faced each member of the Council that sentenced you, but you must confront yourself as well. There is a cave, along the path down to the Valley. Inside, across a natural bridge, you will find a passage leading down. You must go alone. Once inside, you will be tested. You may find some of your answers-but the full truth must wait a little longer."

"I… understand." Meetra bit her lip and nodded. "Thank you, Master Lonna."

"There is one other thing I must tell you," Lonna said. "You already know that the Sith Lord is lying in wait. _Do not_ avenge me. That cannot be why you fight, not if you mean to be a Jedi." She smiled gently. "May the Force be with you, Meetra."

"And with you, Master," Meetra replied. "I wish you good journeys."

The spirit faded, and Meetra wiped her eyes. "There's nothing else for us here. Let's leave this place."

The same key that had opened the torture room door fit a switch on the wall. Meetra turned the switch, and they heard the bolts retract from the main gate. Atton blew out a breath. "No way are they letting us walk out of here."

Handmaiden crossed her arms. "Then we will break through."

Meetra nodded approvingly. "Let's go. Above all, stay in your pairs. Do not let the Sith separate you, and if they run, don't chase them. Our only goal is getting out of this place."

They moved together, hilts in hand. Meetra entered the round central room to find it full of Sith, more than two dozen. The scarred man from Peragus was front and center. "Did you come here for answers? There are none. The call of Korriban is strong, but it is the call of the dead." He pointed at Meetra. "I have studied you, immersed myself in you. I know the paths you walked in exile. I know your teacher. I know the fires that raged upon the Dxun moon while the Republic died around you. You know war. You know battle. And I know of Malachor. You know what it means to be broken. The one who travels with you will destroy you, as she did me. I can end it before it begins."

"What do you know of Kreia?" Meetra asked.

"I know her as an apprentice knows their Master," the Sith replied, "and as a Master knows an apprentice. She clings to hope. That perhaps she can train one as great as her first. She is a fool who escaped death once. She will not do so again."

Meetra shook her head. "I will not let you harm her."

The Sith fixed Meetra with an intense stare. "But you do not know her as I do. You have not survived her teachings, as I have. And you have not bested her in battle, as I have. You are nothing. Yet still she walks with you, is willing to sacrifice herself for you! You are a wretched thing, a thing of weakness and fear. You are her apprentice in name only. I am the Master." He ignited his lightsaber. "And that is why you will die."

Meetra's students were already spreading out, ready to fight. The assassins closed in, raising their staves. Atton cocked his head. "Y'know, it occurs to me that you boys aren't carrying lightsabers." He drew his pistol and dropped four assassins. The others rushed forward before he could even the odds further. Handmaiden stepped in, fending off three attackers long enough for Atton to draw his saber. The other students joined in, and the fight was on. Meetra had no idea how her companions were doing; she had her hands full with the scarred Sith. He was almost as fast as Handmaiden, and much stronger. Meetra parried a series of quick strikes and countered with a low offhand slash. The Sith jumped over the swing and hit Meetra with a hard punch from above. Meetra wiped a trickle of blood out of her left eye and braced herself. The Sith came on with a couple of quick slashes before locking blades. Meetra twisted her saber and sliced down, inflicting a deep cut to his left thigh. The Sith didn't even flinch, kicking Meetra backwards and going for her throat. Meetra spun aside and brought her saber around, taking the Sith's arm off just below the elbow.

Meetra felt sick as her opponent's power surged. He stared her down, pointed his stump, and pulled the severed arm back. It reattached itself with only a thin scar to show it had been cut off moments before. The Sith flexed his fingers, then ignited his saber and advanced. Meetra gaped, dumbstruck. The Sith's face alternated between snarling hate and a chillingly calm expression. He drove Meetra back, attacking from every angle. Meetra crossed her sabers to stop a vertical slash and forced his arms upward. She kicked him backwards and threw her shoto to impale him in the throat. He gagged briefly, then pulled the saber out and tossed it back to her.

 _Sion._ Kreia's voice was urgent in Meetra's mind. _He cannot be defeated… he is not a beast of flesh and blood. This is not a battle that can be won. Flee._

 _How can I stop him?_ Meetra asked. _What_ is _he, Kreia?_

 _There will be another time,_ Kreia replied. _But it is not now, not here, while Korriban runs through him._

Meetra nodded and blasted Sion with a push. He flew across the room and hit a wall. Meetra looked around. Her students had killed or injured several of the assassins. She noticed that Visas and Mira were both in one-on-one duels. Meetra threw her sabers, taking out their opponents. "Run, everyone, run _now!_ "

Visas and Mira moved to help the other students with their fights. Meetra threw another push at Sion, slamming him into the ground as he tried to rejoin the battle. Atton started shooting again, and Mira joined in with her dart launcher. Handmaiden and Bao-Dur began pushing for the exit. They fought their way to the door while Meetra, Mical, and Visas brought up the rear. They burst out into the open to find that night had fallen. Atton tried to shut the door, but the override switch prevented him from locking it. They got to a safe distance, then Mira fired a rocket into the hillside, setting off an avalanche. The door was buried behind tons of rock.

Atton grinned. "That'll hold them for a while. Now let's get off this damned world."

"Not yet," said Meetra. She pointed to an opening in the rocks. "I still have to go into the cave."

" _What?_ " Mira pointed to the pile of rubble. "Master, they're digging already. We need to get out of here!"

Meetra set her jaw. "Lonna Vash held herself in this world to get me that message. I will not dishonor her memory by ignoring it." She turned to Mical. "Return to the ship and keep watch. I will join you as soon as I can. If the Sith manage to dig their way out, you are to take off immediately and return to Dantooine."

Mical swallowed and nodded, and the students headed off down the path. Meetra took a calming breath and stepped into the shadows.

* * *

 **A/N: As often as Force Ghosts appear in canon, there is no good reason why Vash doesn't appear to Meetra. Well, there is one: she could have told Meetra the truth too early, and was thus inconvenient to plot. But this is one of those stories where the journey is the important thing, and Meetra would understand that. Up next, a flashback, and shit gets real.**


	35. Korriban, part two

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not ever, not even a little.**

* * *

Meetra walked alone through the cave. Light came from small cracks, high overhead. The only sounds were dripping water, her footsteps, and the swish of her cloak. The air was stale and cold; Meetra could see her breath as she went deeper in. The tunnel opened into a large round room. A small group of shyracks swooped in at Meetra. She slew one, and the others flew away. Meetra crossed the room and entered another passage. She emerged onto the edge of a subterranean chasm. A natural bridge spanned the gap. Meetra crossed it and felt a disturbance in the Force. She followed the sensation, along the far edge of the ravine and into an opening. The passage led down. Meetra walked on, surprised to see bright yellow light. She emerged into a warm, sunlit area, open to the sky. Meetra blinked; it was the upper courtyard of the Jedi Enclave. There was a group of people ahead, all wearing some variation of Jedi robes. Meetra walked up to them. She felt a jolt as she recognized the tall man speaking to the others.

"Do not heed the words of the Jedi Council," said Malak. "The Republic will fall if we do not act now. Already the Mandalorians have taken three systems along the Rim. They will only grow more powerful with time. Come stand with me. We will use our might to help the Republic in its time of need. Join Revan and I. Together, we will battle this menace."

Meetra nodded to herself. "I've been here… this is when you recruited me for the Mandalorian Wars."

Malak kept on speaking as if Meetra hadn't said anything. "The Jedi Council is wise, but will take too long to deal with this threat. We must act now to stop the Mandalorians. I have heard of you. Your masters speak well of you, of your skills in battle. Join us."

A couple of the Jedi walked over to stand with Malak. Meetra pursed her lips. "I had been thinking about what to do for weeks. I wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing. I read about the Mandalorians, spoke with some of the older Jedi who'd fought them in the Exar Kun War. Everything I learned told me that the Mandalorians were incredibly destructive-and they would keep on marching until we stopped them."

"The Jedi Council is wise but can make mistakes," Malak continued. "History has proven this time and time again. The Council seems content to watch, to debate, while entire systems fall to the Mandalorians. If we don't act now, there may be no Republic Army to assist in the future."

"I remember the debates," Meetra said. "Vandar had visions that a calamity was coming that would devastate the Republic. The Masters were split on what the vision meant-whether the destruction would be caused by Jedi going to war, or staying out. Master Lonna wanted to fight, but she wasn't willing to defy the Council. Same with Master Zez-Kai. Master Kavar was wavering, and so were Zhar and Vima. Master Vrook was dead-set against joining another war. Grand Master Nomi was afraid that Jedi who went to battle would fall to the dark side, like Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma. Considering what Revan did after Malachor, she may have been right."

"Their vaunted wisdom bred only inaction. And that would've led to destruction greater than anything born of the dark side." Malak looked down, directly into Meetra's eyes. This wasn't just a memory anymore. "So, if you could do it all again… the real question is, would you? The Mandalorians await on the edge of space, eager to crush the Republic. You know how this turns out."

"Meetra, wait." Meetra turned to see a young Bastila Shan. "Please, don't listen to him. Let the Masters come to a decision. They have had experience with the Mandalorians, and with war. Trust in their experience. At the very least, hear them out; you owe them that much."

"And what do we owe the galaxy?" Malak countered. "How many beings must be killed or enslaved while we wait? How long before the weight of those lives is heavier than the burden of our duty to the Masters?" He looked back at Meetra. "Would you do it any different? Knowing what it costs you, knowing what it costs the rest?"

"That isn't fair. Anyone can make the right decision, knowing the consequences." Meetra hesitated for one long moment. "And what do I know now? I know what you and Revan did, but I also know how close it was, how far the Mandalorians got even after the Revanchists joined the war. If we had stayed behind, I have no doubt the Mandalorians would have overthrown the Republic. Given the choice again, I'd join you, and fight to protect the Republic."

Malak smiled. "So knowing all that would transpire, you would still follow Revan and I? Excellent." He turned and walked out of the Enclave; Meetra followed him, along with several others. Bastila watched them leave, pain on her face. As they walked, Malak turned to Meetra again. "Bastila didn't join us that day, but in time she came to our way of thinking. And even before then, she wavered and wondered what would have happened."

Meetra nodded. "Her Battle Meditation was almost as powerful as Nomi's. If she'd come, the odds could have been firmly in our favor. The war would have been over quicker… and with less loss of life. Malachor might not have been necessary. But she chose to remain behind."

"It is a familiar path," said Malak. "There were those who wished to follow you to war, yet remained behind. They came to hate you for the choices they wished to make."

They stepped through another door, and out onto a landing pad, but not the Enclave pad. Meetra was on the tarmac at the Navy base on Ralltiir. The place was bustling; transports and shuttles of all kinds were loading cargo. As each ship filled, it took off to join the stream of craft rising toward the fleet, invisible above the blue sky overhead. Meetra walked through the bustle, remembering.

"General Surik?" Meetra turned to see a young Twi'lek man with tan-yellow skin, wearing a brown overcloak over light armor. The insignia of a lieutenant was pinned to his collar. "I've been sent to fetch you, General. The Jedi Council has sent a representative, a Master, to speak with Revan. He and Malak are busy; he requests that you see her in his stead."

Meetra nodded curtly. "I'll follow you. What's your name, by the way? I don't think we've met."

"I'm Ree," he called over his shoulder. "This way."

The Twi'lek led the way into the base headquarters, through a twisting maze of corridors and stairways, and up to a conference room on the third floor. Meetra didn't recognize the white-robed figure until she turned around. Her eyes widened. "Atris?"

" _Master_ Atris, now." The tall woman's voice was cold. "I suppose I should have expected this insult. The great Revan is so busy marching off to war that he can't even be bothered to speak to the Council's envoy himself." She crossed her arms. "I bear a message from the Jedi High Council. They understand that the Mandalorian assault has raised tensions, and some Jedi have made poor decisions as a result. The so-called 'Revanchists' are to stand down now, and return to their assigned places. Any who do so will be welcomed by the Order. All others will face the Council's judgment, if and when they return."

"A generous offer." Meetra crossed her arms. "Does the Council think we're so concerned with our own status? We're not thinking of ourselves. I came here because I can't abide what the Mandalorians are doing."

"You're here because you let yourselves be swayed by a charismatic fool whose mind is filled with dreams of glory." Atris glared at Meetra. "How could you do this? Vima is beside herself! The Council was considering you for Master rank. I told them you were ready, and then you run off after Revan?"

"They can't have been too angry at you," Meetra said coolly. "They raised you to Master instead."

Atris' eyes flashed. "I didn't want it, not like this! You were always stronger, a better teacher. There are younglings and Padawans who need a master like you! What sort of example are you setting for them?"

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "What example does the Council set, ignoring the deaths of billions of sentients? If the core of the light is compassion, how can we turn a blind eye to suffering on a massive scale?" She shook her head. "The Council is too cautions. I understand their worry about the dark side, I really do. But a being killed by the Mandalorians is just as dead as one slain by Sith. The Council needs to trust that they taught us well."

"Clearly, you didn't absorb the part about _obedience_." Atris rounded on the Twi'lek. "And you! What would your cousin think of this?"

Ree flushed blue-green and ground his teeth. "You know _nothing_ about my family! I asked him what to do before I left. He told me I should meditate, and make my own decision, which I did. You think he'd be ashamed of me? He stood up to protect the innocent on several occasions, as you well know!"

"He acted on the orders of the Council," Atris snapped, "and look at what happened to his companions who didn't! Ulic? Exar Kun? Crado and Sylvar? Continue down the path you are walking, and you'll fall just as they did!" She spun on her heel and stalked out. "I'll tell the Council to prepare for your judgment!"

Meetra blew out a breath, then turned to Ree. "Your cousin?"

He sighed. "I'm Ree _Doneeta_ ; my cousin is Master Tott." Ree's shoulders drooped. "And that's _all_ I am, Tott Doneeta's cousin."

Meetra frowned, concerned. "Is that why you joined? To make a name for yourself?"

"Absolutely not." Ree set his jaw. "It's easy to ignore the Mandalorians, when you've never known suffering yourself. My clan knows what it is to be conquered and enslaved. I don't know if you've noticed, but almost all of the Twi'lek Jedi have joined Revan, along with the Iridonians and Cathar. Tott was a slave himself, and so was I. We won't allow the Mandalorians to take the Republic without a fight."

"I'm glad to hear it." Meetra and Ree turned to see Malak standing in the doorway. "It's good you two have met, Meetra. Revan was hoping you would take Ree as your Padawan. His basic skills are quite good, but he still needs a teacher."

Meetra looked at Ree and smiled. "Certainly. I think we'll make a good team."

"And we did, Master." Ree smiled and beckoned; Meetra followed him through the door as Malak vanished. "You taught, and I learned. Together, we fought our way across the Rim." He drew his lightsaber, fitted with a yellow crystal from a formation near his village. Meetra drew her own sabers, wincing to see the cyan blades. Mandalorians appeared before them, Republic troops behind. Meetra led the way with Ree right beside her. Meetra's old battles appeared as he spoke. "Fate or luck, we got off Serroco right before the Mandalorians nuked the Stereb cities. They chased us to Dagary Minor and won again, but we gave better than we got. We stood with Never-Run Nevran at Duro, holding the Mandos back until the orbital cities were evacuated; they damned near shot the last one out from under us." He grinned. "And then Supreme Chancellor Cressa made Revan the Supreme Commander of the Republic forces, and the reinforcements arrived from the Trailing Sectors on the far side of the Outer Rim. We pushed back, and hard. It took a month, but we liberated Taris and opened the supply routes to the occupied Rim. That's when the counteroffensive started in earnest-at Dxun."

* * *

Meetra swallowed hard as they passed through another doorway. This time, it was the ramp door of a KT-400, the Republic military variant of the heavy-lifter shuttle. The ramp was tilted; they'd just survived a crash-landing after their transport was hit. They ran down the ramp and onto the surface of the jungle moon. The very second Meetra and Ree's feet touched dirt, they came under heavy attack. They blocked the blaster fire and pushed ahead. Meetra rushed to the edge of the clearing, running at the spot she'd seen shots coming from. The fire died down; she arrived at the treeline to find nothing but discarded power cells. It was like that for the next three weeks. Mandalorians would hit out of nowhere, kill or injure a few of Meetra's people, and vanish into the jungle. Occasionally, they would attack her camp in force, always at night. Booby traps and beasts claimed even more lives. Meetra and Ree fought through it all, shoulder to shoulder in the deep green hell. Well-hidden heavy guns denied the Republic forces air support, and played havoc with resupply flights. Eventually, they found a Mandalorian supply route and followed it; the guns were located in a hilltop stronghold. Meetra gathered what was left of her troops and prepared to attack.

The captain commanding Meetra's infantry walked up to her just before they began the assault. "Comm says we've lost another heavy droid transport. How can we break through the Mandalorian lines without support? The path is mined and the place is crawling with enemies." She shook her head. "I know we've got our orders to press forward, but we're at quarter strength. We can't, General. It's impossible. We need to retreat."

"I remember this day," Meetra said. "The Mandalorian air defense complex was part of a larger stronghold. The AA guns were halfway up a mountain; the base was ringed with bunkers and minefields, and there was heavy artillery at the summit. As long as they kept firing, we were mostly cut off from our support in orbit. Take the guns out, and the Republic can land reinforcements to secure the moon."

"We know, General. But we just don't have enough men to accomplish our objective, no matter how important." The captain's voice was breaking. "We already lost half the men just getting to the path. They've got the rest of the company pinned down by the crash site. You can't possibly ask the troops to go forward." Now she was almost begging. "If you ask us to charge, will it make a difference? Will our sacrifice mean something?"

"Revan ordered us to charge," Meetra said grimly. "He ordered everyone to charge. The anti-air sites were only supported by one artillery battery, and Revan figured they couldn't cover everywhere at once. Someone was bound to get through."

The captain took a deep breath, then straightened up to attention. "We… we will press forward if you ask it. The path is mined. If you ask us to charge, there will be losses, General."

Ree stepped up beside her. "Master, what are your orders?"

Meetra looked at the Republic troops behind the captain. There were perhaps twenty left, out of a company which had started at a hundred and fifty men. Many were wounded, and they had so little ammunition that some were using pistols or captured Mandalorian weapons; they were hungry and tired and far from home. But they met Meetra's eyes one by one, and gave her a wink or smile, or just a grim nod, and she knew. If she gave the word, they'd charge, every one of them. They'd followed her through years of hell, and they weren't about to stop following her now. Meetra owed them for that loyalty, and she knew it.

She glanced at Ree. "We're leading the charge. Full speed, and we push the mines as they pop." Meetra faced the captain. "Keep the men in tight column. We'll only be able to clear a narrow lane through the mines. And move fast-you won't be able to keep up with us, but get down that path before their spotters can zero. If the artillery catches you, there's nothing I can do."

"Thank you, General," the captain said gratefully. "Thank you." The troopers grinned; those who had them fixed bayonets.

Meetra walked up to the path with Ree in tow. "I want you trailing me by about three meters. When they start firing, let me handle blocking bolts. Don't miss; if you do, the mines will get me, and the Mandalorians will get _you_. Are you ready?"

Ree nodded confidently. "After you, Master."

"Good." Meetra turned and crouched. "On my 'mark.' Three… two… one… _mark!_ "

Meetra tore up small chunks of dirt as she exploded forward, running hard down the path. She felt Ree behind her, moving just as fast. Ahead, the first mine bounded into the air. Meetra forced herself not to break stride. The mine seemingly rose in slow motion, coming up to eye level less than a meter away. Ree's push struck the frag charge and blew it into the jungle. Another mine popped to Meetra's right and Ree shot it even farther away. The Mandalorians began shooting. Meetra drew her long saber and began deflecting the incoming fire. Ree got the next four mines without trouble. The terrain began to rise toward the Mandalorian positions. The path curved to the right, slanting across the face of the hill. Another mine popped into the air-to Meetra's _left_. There was no place for Ree to push the charge; it would bounce off the hillside and come back at her. Meetra braced herself for a blast she couldn't possibly survive. Ree _pulled_ the mine, which blew close behind him. She felt the Twi'lek stagger and grabbed him with the Force to keep him from falling into the mines. The first defense line came into view; several Mandalorian warriors ran out to meet the Jedi with blades while more kept up the fire.

Meetra slowed to a walk as she reached the inner boundary of the minefield. Ree stepped up beside her, igniting his saber. Meetra looked sidelong at him. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "Armor caught the shrapnel. I'm gonna need a new cloak, though." Ree angled his lightsaber, eyeing the Mandalorians. "There are more elite veterans and Rally Masters than usual. They must really want to keep this hill."

The Mandalorians were spreading out. They were armed with traditional weapons: either a Mythosaur battle-axe or a wide-bladed _beskad_ sword with a _kal_ in the off hand. They ran in, shouting battle cries. Meetra and Ree met them head-on, striking down four blue-armored warriors in the first half minute. The more experienced Mandalorians closed in more slowly, angling their weapons. Meetra pointed Ree to take the silver-armored veteran while she faced a pair of Rally Masters. Ree stopped the veteran's first attack and pushed, driving the man away from Meetra. She raised her sabers, waiting for the Mandalorians to make the first move.

Mandalorian Rally Masters were easy to spot in their blood-red armor. They served as upper-level NCOs, instructors, and keepers of Mandalorian history and tradition. On the battlefield, they were highly skilled foes, not to be taken lightly. One raised a huge axe, while the other readied a sword and dagger. Meetra attacked the swordsman, then jumped back to avoid an axe blow. The swordsman lunged, trying to keep the pressure on. Meetra parried and had to duck another well-timed axe swing. Her troopers were arriving on the scene, but the Mandalorian defenses were still intact, and the soldiers had no cover on the path. They ran forward, throwing smoke grenades to shroud themselves. Meetra tried to get loose to go after the gun nest, but the Rally Masters were too good. The repeaters swept back and forth, ripping through the smoke and hitting several troopers. Meetra threw her shoto, but the repeater gunner ducked. Before she could pull it back, both Mandalorians were on her. The swordsman kept Meetra busy while the axe-man circled her weak side. Meetra let loose with a Force Wave, but neither Mandalorian budged. The repeater fired another burst down the path and a man screamed.

Ree jumped down into the nest, saber flashing as he tore into the gunners. The gunfire stopped as the Mandalorians tried to draw their _beskade_. The Republic troopers charged out of the smoke, assaulting the defense line with blaster fire and grenades. The Rally Master with the axe tried to turn and help the gunners; Ree threw Meetra's shoto and cut his head off. Meetra pulled the shoto in and spun to an attack stance. The surviving Mandalorian refused to back down, stepping in with slashing attacks. Meetra parried, knocked the Rally Master off balance, and finished him with a straight thrust to the visor. And then they were through the defensive line and charging uphill towards the AA guns. The Mandalorians kept firing as the Republic forces burst into their position. Meetra and Ree were in the lead all the way, carving a path through the Mandalorian defenders. They left the captain and her troopers to secure the guns and continued up to the artillery at the summit. The Mandalorians never had time to retreat and make a stand at the top of the hill; the Jedi were on them less than a minute after overrunning the AA battery. They raced from one gun pit to the next, cutting down gunners and wrecking the firing controls. Cheers went up all over the mountain as the big guns fell silent.

* * *

 **A/N: It doesn't take a genius to see that I based the Dxun campaign on Vietnam. The Mandalorian Wars changed the people who fought them, left the soldiers traumatized and the public questioning their political leaders.**


	36. Korriban, part three

**Disclaimer: Lucasarts and Obsidian Entertainment created KotOR II, and I thank them.**

* * *

The Republic troops moved into the bunkers on the mountain. They got their first hot meal in days, watching the stream of transports land fresh troops to continue the assault on the last Mandalorian strongholds. Meetra and Ree were resting in a bunkroom near the summit when Malak walked in. "Good work today, Meetra. I understand your breakthrough was a sight to see."

Meetra cocked her head. "And yet, you don't sound pleased. Why the note of disapproval?"

Malak shrugged. "You didn't follow the plan. Revan is concerned at what your… improvisation means for the future. We can't afford breaks in the chain of command."

" _What?_ " Ree glared at Malak. "She didn't send her troops to be slaughtered, and you _reprimand_ her? What in the Force is the matter with you?"

"That's enough, _Padawan_." Malak stepped forward, looming over the much shorter Twi'lek. "This incident ended well, but it might not always be so. Victory requires sacrifice. Revan cannot afford a general with too soft a heart. The day may come when there may not be an option. And it is certainly not _your_ place to question the Supreme Commander!" He spun on his heel and walked out.

Ree walked to a firing slit, watching Malak's shuttle as it flew away. "What's the matter with him, Master? You care about your men; what's wrong with that?"

"He has a lot of responsibility, Ree, and Revan's burden is even heavier." Meetra stepped up next to the Twi'lek. "He isn't wrong to worry. I saved as many as I could, but I found a way to accomplish the mission. The Mandalorians have already killed _billions_ of people. What is the sacrifice of a hundred soldiers compared to that?"

Ree snorted dismissively. "A real commander would find a way, like you did."

Meetra turned to face him. "Malak isn't wrong, Ree. A 'real commander' remembers that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. To push the Mandalorians back, Revan has had to send more than a million soldiers to their deaths. Today, I was lucky. If you wish to lead, you must be willing to sacrifice your people-the mission always comes first. What if there _wasn't_ a way? What if it were you, and you had to choose between a planet full of people… and _me_? Could you do it?"

Ree opened his mouth, shut it, and looked down. "How long have you known?"

"Oh, a year at least." Meetra smiled gently. "And… I love you too, Ree. I wish I'd told you long ago. I needed to be sure it wasn't just the Master-student bond."

The Twi'lek looked into her eyes. "What happens now?"

She took his hands. "I want you to promise me something. Whatever our relationship, we remain Jedi first. How we feel about one another must _never_ affect how we serve others. We always put the galaxy before our own needs, no matter the price."

"I… I swear it." Meetra kissed him deeply, and they walked out the door hand in hand.

"Ree, the years we spent together were the happiest and saddest of my life." Meetra and Ree walked on through her memories, across a dozen worlds and through battlefields of every description. They fought together against all comers, enduring tragedy and enjoying triumph. "I lost so many soldiers, too many. They were dedicated and incredibly brave; I'm ashamed to admit that I can't remember all their names. But you were always by my side, first as a friend, then as a lover." They reached another doorway; this one was the heavy durasteel portal of a large warship. Meetra froze. "No, no, not here."

The door opened, and Ree stepped through onto the bridge of Meetra's flagship, the battlecruiser _Ravager_. Meetra tried to hang back, but when she blinked, she was standing at her usual place on the command platform. Ree stood beside her, watching the Republic fleet engaging the Mandalorians above Malachor V. The initial exchange of missiles and torpedoes was over; the capital ships were slugging it out at gun range. The Mandalorians were trying to break through the Republic lines, to escape the system and regroup.

"General Surik!" It was Captain Forn Dodonna, standing at her console in the operations trench. Bao-Dur was at the next station over, watching silently. "General, message from Revan. His task force has caught up with Mandalore. He is engaging; he won't be able to join us in time. You have command of the operation and authority to activate the generator."

"Mass shadow generator is fully charged, General." Bao-Dur spoke softly, eyes on his instruments. "Ready to fire."

Meetra hesitated, her mouth working soundlessly. She looked back and forth, almost in a panic.

"Fleet casualties at twenty percent, General." Dodonna swiped a hand across her screen. "I'm re-positioning ships to keep the line, but we need to light that generator. We can't hold them for much longer." She looked up at the command platform. "General, I need orders!"

"I don't want to see this!" Meetra tried to run off the bridge; when she turned, she found herself exactly where she had been before. She fell to her knees, closed her eyes and squeezed them shut.

"Meetra." In all their time together, Ree had _only_ used her first name when they were alone. Meetra opened her eyes to find the scene frozen, except for the Twi'lek, who had turned to face her. He smiled gently. "You know what happens now. You must face it."

"No, no, no." Meetra was hugging herself sadly, rocking back and forth. "I can't do it. Please, not again."

"Master, we made a promise on Dxun." Ree stepped forward, crouching down beside her. "Did you mean it?"

"Yes." Meetra took a breath, struggling to control herself.

Ree nodded. "You saw what the Mandalorians did to the people of the Rim. You knew what they would do if they were allowed to escape. Are the worlds you saved worth more than the lives you sacrificed?"

"Yes." Meetra straightened and met Ree's eyes.

Ree put his hands on his hips, much as Meetra used to while she was lecturing. "And did you break the Mandalorians out of hate, or fear?"

"No." Meetra shook her head. "They had to be stopped."

"You did the right thing, Meetra, and for the right reasons." Ree smiled. "We are Jedi. We always put the galaxy before our own needs, no matter the price." He turned away and walked back to his original position on the platform.

Meetra took one more breath to steady herself, then turned to Bao-Dur. She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. The Zabrak keyed in the command as Meetra turned back to the window. Down on the surface of the planet, there was a flash of green light. An energy pulse raced outward in all directions, and Malachor began to implode. More flashes appeared as the generator distorted the gravitational anomalies throughout the system. The tremendous forces pulled on the ships in orbit from multiple directions. They were torn to shreds, durasteel hulls rending like paper. Aboard the _Ravager_ , Meetra winced as she felt millions of beings dying or in pain. She could almost _hear_ them screaming as they were pulled into anomalies and crushed. The Force was in turmoil, and Meetra fell to her knees as she shared the pain of her men.

Suddenly, the air was split by the sound of groaning metal. Meetra looked up to see the hull plating deform as an anomaly lit up just outside. Equipment overloaded and blew all over the bridge. She heard a yell from her left; a bank of consoles fell onto Bao-Dur. She spun back at a loud snapping sound. The window panels were cracking. Ree looked at the spreading fissures, then back at Meetra. He started to speak, but the window burst with a roar. Ree threw a push, blasting Meetra away from the breach. She hit the deck and banged her head; her shoto slid away. Meetra lifted a hand to pull Ree in, but nothing happened. Her head swam and Meetra passed out.

She came around slowly; she was lying on her back on the deck. Alarms were blaring and fires were burning all over. Meetra looked around as her vision cleared and saw her shoto saber, lying in a pool of flame. She extended a hand to pull it to her, but the hilt didn't move. Meetra gasped as she realized that she couldn't feel the Force. The shoto exploded as the power cell overheated. She looked around desperately for Ree; he was gone, pulled out through the hull breach before the particle fields could come on. Meetra began weeping hysterically.

"Master." Meetra blinked, confused, and looked up. The memory had vanished; Ree was standing in front of her, smiling slightly.

Meetra couldn't help herself; she began crying again. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Ree took her hands. "I believed in what you taught me, Master. I still do." He began to fade away. "Goodbye, Master Meetra. May the Force be with you."

"And with you." Meetra wiped her eyes. "Goodbye, Ree, and thank you." Her old Padawan disappeared completely, and Meetra found herself in a dark room carved out of the living rock. She squared her shoulders and walked on.

* * *

The tunnel was lit by small skylights in the ceiling. Meetra saw the walls were covered with intricate carvings. The passage opened up into another room; a familiar figure stood in the center. Kreia bowed her head in greeting. "You are to be commended for making it this far."

Meetra nodded. "I had to face the decisions I made during the war. It hurt, but I've made peace with my choices."

"You've revisited the dark moments of your past, and now you must face the present," Kreia said.

Atton ran up, saber hilt at the ready. "Get away from her! She's a Dark Jedi!"

Kreia glared at him. "Atton, I've had enough of your snide contempt!"

Both of them powered on their lightsabers; Meetra held up her hands. "Stop this. We need to work together."

Kreia shook her head. "I will protect myself from this foul-mouthed ruffian!"

"Hey, what's the commotion here?" asked Bao-Dur, walking up.

"Stay out of this, Bao-Dur," Kreia snapped. "This is a personal dispute between Atton and myself."

"You're threatening Atton with a lightsaber, and I'm supposed to just stay out of it? No!" The Zabrak ignited his saber and spun it to a ready stance.

"I won't let you touch him!" Handmaiden ran up next to Atton, saber blazing.

Part of Meetra knew this was all a vision, a test, but part of her didn't care. "Everybody, put away your weapons!"

"The three of you would challenge me?" Kreia asked scornfully. "You sorely underestimate the power of the Force."

"Think again, Kreia!" Mical stepped from the shadows behind Kreia, with Mira and Visas on either side. "Your dark influence will end!"

Kreia turned back to Meetra. "Your 'friends' are all arrayed against me. Will you stand for this?"

"I won't let them strike another being in anger." She turned in a circle, facing each of her students in turn. "What's the matter with you? I taught you better than this!"

"I will be honest with you. I have fallen to the dark side," Kreia said quietly. "Does this change your decision?"

"Master, she is a danger to you, to the entire galaxy." Mical shook his head. "We are not acting out of hate, and we did not come to this decision lightly; we cannot stand idly by while a threat is rising."

 _This is the dilemma the Council faced during the Wars_. Meetra nodded sadly. "I think you are wrong, but I followed my conscience during the Wars. I cannot deny you the right to do the same. You know the risk you take." She stood aside.

"So you will do _nothing?_ " Kreia's voice was dripping with contempt. "Apathy is death. Worse than death, because at least a rotting corpse feeds the beasts and insects."

Meetra's students turned on her one after another; all their lightsabers blazed red. "Apathy is death. Apathy is death. _Apathy is death!_ "

They rushed her; Meetra raised her sabers to defend herself; but everyone had vanished. The room was empty, except for another passage sloping down to a stone door. Meetra opened the door and stopped short. Two more figures were waiting for her inside; the man wore the black robes and red mask she remembered well. Beside Revan stood… _Meetra_. Her eyes were yellow and her face was deathly pale, corrupted by the dark side.

As Meetra watched, her phantom double faded away. Revan strode forward, drawing a red lightsaber. Meetra knew, somehow, that this fight was real, vision or no. She drew her sabers and locked blades with Revan. He was every bit as deadly as she remembered, but Meetra was a match for him. She used all her skill, responding to every one of Revan's attacks with a counterstroke which forced him to defend. A momentary opening, and Meetra struck home, ramming her shoto into Revan's visor, right between the eyes. He dissipated into violet mist, and Meetra was alone, standing in a Sith tomb.

 _You've succeeded in this trial. I am impressed_. Kreia spoke in Meetra's head again. _I can feel your upset. Know that whatever you found in the depths of the cave, you carried in with you. Trust in your feelings. They will lead you in conquering the many challenges that the future holds for you._

Meetra nodded. _I'm ready to leave this place._

 _One last matter,_ Kreia said. _Whatever you saw was for you alone. Whether you choose to speak of it is up to you. I will understand, and so will the others._

Meetra took one last look around, but there was nothing to see but dust motes floating in the air. The love and loss, the pain and triumph, had always been with her, and she would carry them on. It wouldn't get any easier, but she had the strength to face whatever came. Ree's voice echoed in her mind. _You did the right thing, and for the right reasons. I believed in what you taught me. I still do._

* * *

She stepped out of the cave and into the fresh air. It was still night and the first moon was just reaching its zenith. Meetra hadn't been in the cave more than an hour, though it felt like months. The path to the Academy was empty; the landslide still blocked the door. Meetra decided not to give the Sith a chance to catch up with them. She ran down the trail, through the valley, and up to the ship. HK was standing guard on top and spotted her. He dropped down inside and the boarding ramp opened. Meetra headed into the ship; Atton was lifting off before the ramp fully closed.

Meetra walked into the main hold, where the others were waiting. She hadn't had the chance to check on her students since the skirmish. Bao-Dur and Visas were unharmed. Atton and Handmaiden were bruised. Mira had a kolto wrap on her right knee, and Mical's left arm was in a sling. He smiled. "Not to worry, Master. Mira's knee is sprained and I've got a greenstick fracture; both of us will recover fully in a few days."

"That's all the time we have." Mandalore stepped up, holding a datapad. "Bralor contacted us on comm. Dhagon Ghent just relayed a message from Kavar. He wants us to return to Dxun, so he can set up another meeting."

"That's good." Meetra grabbed a meal tray and a cup of caf and collapsed into a chair. "T3 can set the course. Everyone, get some rest. You've certainly earned it."

The crew relaxed for the flight back to the Japrael system. They dropped out of hyperspace at a distance, expecting to have to sneak in. What they found was shocking. There was a battle raging in orbit between Onderon and Dxun. The Onderonian command ship and two cruisers were exchanging fire with a flotilla of destroyers, amid a cloud of snub fighters. The warships were totally focused on each other, and Atton was able to approach Dxun without any interference. As they watched, the capital ships moved in and pounded the destroyers with heavy gunfire, destroying all but one of them. Two squadrons of fighters raced in and torpedoed one of the cruisers, which blew up. The remaining heavy ships retreated toward deep space to recover their Aureks, while the destroyer fell back to a position above the guns of Iziz.

Mical frowned. "What the hell is this? Those ships are all Onderonian!"

"Sullio's murder was part of something bigger, all right," Mandalore said grimly. "Let's get to my camp and find out what."

Atton set down inside the camp; the Mandalorians got camouflage netting up over the ship. They headed inside, to the command post. Bralor was waiting. "You received my message, then? A man named Kavar wanted to get a hold of you urgently. He said that the Queen had arranged safe passage to Onderon for you. But I don't know how good their offer is anymore."

"We've seen the fighting in orbit," Meetra said. "What's happened?"

"Shortly after you left, General Vaklu met with the Council of Lords and declared that the Queen was guilty of treason," Bralor replied. "He'll be made Regent if Talia and her royalists are defeated. The military is divided on who to support. Civil war has fallen on Iziz. I doubt that Queen Talia and her advisor will survive until nightfall. The balance of forces seemed to favor Queen Talia. The Royal Palace is heavily fortified and defensible, and the Navy and Paladins are loyal to her. But Vaklu has new allies: Sith soldiers and their masters. The PDF space forces are blockading the planet, with help from Sith fighters. The war has also driven the caged beasts in the streets mad. She doesn't stand a chance."

Kreia shook her head. "You underestimate the Force, Mandalorian. I sense that we may still get to Master Kavar in time." She angled her head. "I sense there is something… stirring on the moon itself. Tell me, have your sensors picked up anything from Dxun?"

"Y-yes, yes we have," Bralor stammered. "How…? We picked up some transmissions from nearby in the jungle. We only have our ship's sensors, so we know nothing more than that."

"Those transmissions are the enemy," Kreia said firmly. "They are linked to the fate of Onderon. They must be stopped. Otherwise the Mandalorian is right-Master Kavar and Queen Talia won't survive this day. It is essential, and inevitable, that we face both enemies at the same time."

Meetra turned to Mandalore. "Can you get me to the Palace through Vaklu's blockade?"

Mandalore nodded. "I've got just the thing: a _Bes'uliik_ war droid, the space-combat model. It has space for a pilot and an astromech. That's your ride, along with T3. I'll follow in my shuttle. I can carry two passengers; choose well."

Meetra took a moment to think. "Kreia, Bao-Dur, you will come with Mandalore."

"Statement: Master, you need more support than that," HK interjected. "I have no need for oxygen or warmth; I can ride in the shuttle's cargo compartment."

"Good idea." Meetra turned to Mical. "You will lead the strike on the enemy here on Dxun."

Mical swallowed and nodded. "Yes, Master. We won't let you down."

"I know you won't." Meetra smiled. "You're ready, all of you. Count on each other, and you'll get through this. I'll meet you here when this is all over." She turned back to Mandalore. "I'd like you to send some warriors with them."

"Absolutely," agreed Mandalore. "Bralor, tell Kelborn to get his squad moving. Have the rest of Xarga's platoon standing by in one of the dropships in case they need more support. Have everyone else prepare for war. I want everyone ready to launch in eighteen hours." He looked back at Meetra and crossed his arms. "The Sith are on the move. Once we're finished here, my warriors will be ready for your command, Jedi."

"Strange times." Meetra smiled. "I'd be glad to have you at my back."

* * *

 **A/N: If you'll remember the in-game dialogue, Zez-kai Ell mentions that the Exile lost her Padawan at Malachor. The fact that she fell for Ree and then lost him is what is slowing her down telling Mical how she feels. If you'll remember her first memory of Malachor, from earlier in this fic, Ree is not mentioned. Meetra had blocked it out because it hurt so bad.**


	37. Dxun Tomb

**Disclaimer: KotOR garay va akarya'a at ni. (That isn't gibberish either, but it's _different_ not-gibberish)**

* * *

The Basilisk and shuttle launched about ten minutes later. Meetra's students headed through the jungle along with Kelborn and his squad. The weather worsened; a gusting wind yielded to a torrential downpour, with thunder rolling and lightning striking the mountaintops. They were moving for perhaps fifteen minutes when Kelborn held up a hand to stop the group. "We're close. I know this area well. There's a hanging valley in the mountains ahead. It's pretty isolated, with steep hills on three sides and a sheer cliff on the fourth. The only way in is to fly, or with mountaineering equipment."

"Sounds like a good place to hide something," Mical said. "I don't want whoever sent those transmissions to know we're coming. Let's keep searching on foot; if we find signs they're up there, we'll have to call one of the Q-Carriers to lift us up to the valley."

They didn't know exactly what to look for, but Mira found it. There was a well-worn trail through the jungle, leading to the base of the hills which surrounded the valley. It was mostly boma tracks, but the hunter found prints from armored boots. Someone had passed by within the last day, hoping the bomas would trample their tracks. They followed the trail right up to the rock face. Vines and underbrush hid a tunnel entrance. The passage sloped upward, a hidden route into the valley. Mical halted the group at the opening and sent Mira to scout ahead. She crept forward carefully, and she was right to do so. A quick look around, then Mira backed off to report in.

Mical brightened as Mira popped out of the tunnel. "How does it look?"

"They've got a perimeter set up." Mira pointed. "The tunnel is mined. Not many, just two at the narrowest point. The far exit is under surveillance by a type 2 perimeter motion relay. A little outdated, but it'll do the job. If anything moves within 6 meters of that, then they know they've got visitors. I could see one turret outside the opening. I assume that there are more, but I couldn't get any closer to get a good look."

"We need to get in there, find out who 'they' are, and what they're up to." Mical rubbed his chin. "We need to get through the perimeter, either completely undetected, or fast and hard enough to blindside them. That means dealing with mines, sensors, and turrets. Suggestions?"

"Cloaked approach," said Kelborn. "My squad has stealth field generators. We can move through the tunnel while avoiding the mines, then sabotage the relay and blow the turrets. It'd be slow going, but we've done it often enough before."

Atton shook his head. "I dunno. You'll be way out in front, and we Jedi will be stuck behind active mines. The enemy will be alerted when the turrets are destroyed. If there are Dark Jedi in the area, they'll wipe you out before we can get there."

"Wipe out Mandalorians?" Kelborn grunted. "They might at that."

Mira held up her launcher. "I can neutralize the relay with an ion rocket, then Atton and I could disable the mines without being detected. That just leaves the turrets."

"I will handle them." Handmaiden glanced around the group. "If the mines are clear, I can sprint right up to the turrets and take them out."

Atton nodded. "The storm will help. Visibility is reduced, and they won't hear us over the rain and thunder."

"I like it." Mical clasped his hands. "Be careful."

Mira nodded and slid a rocket onto her launcher's rail. "Ready here."

Handmaiden got down into a sprinter's crouch, her face a mask of concentration. "I am prepared."

Atton and Mira moved as far forward as they could without tripping the sensor. The mines were in plain view, sitting on the rocky floor of the tunnel. Atton got down on his belly, security spike in one hand. Mira took aim and fired. The rocket burst in the air next to the relay; it spat blue sparks and stopped oscillating. Atton crawled forward and began working on the first mine. It took him about a minute. Mira crawled past him and got to work on the second. As soon as it was disarmed, Atton gave the signal. Handmaiden erupted out of her crouch, passing through the tunnel in the blink of an eye. There were three turrets guarding the exit; they fired well behind her as she moved in a blur. She slashed the center turret in half, then threw her saber to wreck the one on the right. The final turret was aiming at her back when Atton and Mira emerged from the tunnel and shot it to pieces. None of the three got a single hit.

* * *

Atton, Handmaiden and Mira took a quick look around. There was no sign that they had alerted anyone. They had come out onto a grassy slope, about halfway up the mountainside. Above them, the mountain was bare rock, too steep to walk. The terrain was ruggedly beautiful: high peaks ringed the open, grassy plain on three sides. The valley floor was mostly meadow, with a few clumps of trees. There was a sizeable lake at the upper end, draining into a creek which ran down the center of the valley before plunging off a cliff into the jungle below. The waterfall was probably spectacular, but they didn't have time to admire the view.

The activity was on the shore of the lake. There was some kind of large structure on the mountainside, but the rain made it impossible to tell what. There was a pair of heavy lifters landed nearby, and a cluster of what looked like tents. Kelborn scanned the enemy position through his helmet's built-in macrobinoculars. "They're Sith, all right: same uniforms as Revan and Malak's people. I don't see any _dar'jetiise_ , just troopers with droids and turrets in support, maybe two hundred hostiles all together."

"And more inside the structure, no doubt." Mical raised his own macros. "There isn't much cover between here and there; we're sure to get spotted. We Jedi will form a line in front, and deflect blaster fire during our advance. Once we reach the camp, you'll hang back and support us." He turned to the other students. "We'll use our usual pairings once we get close in. Mira, you don't have a partner, so stay with the Mandalorians. If one of us gets into trouble, you'll move to back them up."

Mira nodded. "We need to hit those shuttles first thing. Twin blaster cannon on each arm-if they get off the ground, we're in trouble." She glanced at Kelborn. "I'll hit one with a rocket; have your men concentrate fire on the other."

G0-T0 spoke up. "Jedi, the droids are susceptible to my override. I would have to get closer, but if you can cover me, I can slice a small number and cause chaos in the enemy ranks."

"That will help to counter their numbers," said Handmaiden. "We should strike now, while we still have the element of surprise."

They moved from one clump of trees to the next, the storm concealing them. At the last good hiding place, they faced three hundred meters of open ground. The structure was easier to see now; it was a ziggurat of black stone, with two tall statues on either side of the ramp to the upper tier. Troopers had set up turrets on the lower levels, and there were sharpshooters up high. There were large cargo containers on the ground at the base of the building. The Jedi and their Mandalorian allies spread out, communicating with hand signals. Kelborn kept his riflemen in the middle, with a repeater gunner at either end of the line. Mira stood and fired a high-explosive rocket into one of the shuttles. It blew sky-high and the Sith soldiers all jumped, grabbing for their weapons.

The Mandalorians began firing at the second shuttle; Kelborn swore as the ship's shields came up. Mira fired again, but the shuttle lifted off and the rocket passed beneath it. The ship swung around to bring its cannon to bear. Everyone scattered, running for cover as the shuttle opened up. The pilot walked his fire toward the spot the rocket had come from. Mira ran sideways, diving behind a rock outcropping as she reloaded her launcher. The pilot climbed to get a better firing angle. There was nowhere for Mira to run; she looked up and the world went white.

A loud crack shook the ground and sky. The shuttle had climbed too high into the storm and been struck by lightning. It went completely out of control and plowed into the lake nose-first; the explosion threw up a cloud of mud and water. Kelborn shouted and the Mandalorians regrouped. The repeater gunners fired suppression while the Jedi formed their line. They advanced on the camp at a fast walk. The Sith troopers fell back to the lowest tier of the ziggurat while the war droids held their ground. The Jedi concentrated on saber work, letting the Mandalorians handle the offense. The Sith had numbers and an elevated position, and they didn't make it easy. The silver-armored troopers laid down heavy fire, and forced the allies to stop and take cover. A platoon of droids moved to guard the stairway.

G0-T0 advanced, raising a small antenna from one of the hatches on his chassis. A handful of the droids jerked, then turned on the others. The 'loyal' droids returned fire. The Sith couldn't tell which were friendly, so they kept on shooting at the Jedi and Mandalorians as the droid force tore itself apart. G0-T0 extended his weapons array and shot the last two droids to pieces. He retreated to the Mandalorian line before the Sith could blast him. The two pairs of Jedi split left and right and began moving in as the Mandalorians gave them covering fire.

A squad of troopers descended the stairs; they were wearing the red armor of elite Sith soldiers. One of them hit a control on his wrist. The cargo containers opened and a dozen boma beasts emerged. The red-armored troopers ran down the stairs, coming up alongside the creatures. The bomas didn't attack, they waited. The Sith pointed and the bomas charged the Jedi.

Mical waved his saber; the Jedi took the bomas while the Mandalorians handled the Sith on the ziggurat. The Sith beast-handlers moved in with force pikes. The beasts tried to circle the Jedi and attack from the sides. Mira emptied her launcher's magazine, loaded another, and emptied it too. She killed three bomas and two of the Sith elites before they got in close, then drew her saber and joined the other Jedi. The bomas fell quickly, and the handlers fell back. Atton made a hand sign; Mira fired a rocket into the Sith on the ledge. The explosion killed two and blew up a heavy turret. Handmaiden drew on the Force and leaped up to the first level of the ziggurat; Atton jumped and she hauled him up. They began working their way along the platform, attacking the Sith flank and driving them out of cover. The Mandalorian repeater gunners shifted fire to the far side of the line, while the riflemen picked off anyone they could hit. Visas rushed up the middle with Mical and Mira behind her. The Sith tried to run, but none of them made it.

The door at the top of the ziggurat opened with a rumble. Eight Sith stepped out onto the upper platform. They wore grey bodysuits with black hoods and masks. Atton sucked in a hissing breath. "Those are Dark Jedi apprentices."

"Eight of them, five of us." Mical waved the others to rally at the base of the ziggurat. He glanced at Atton and Handmaiden. "I need you to take the four-on-two."

"They won't have to." Kelborn drew his _beskad_ , and so did the other Mandalorians. "You forgot to count us."

Mical smiled faintly. "Right. Hold the repeater gunners and a few others in reserve. I want them to watch out for troopers and keep our backs covered." Kelborn nodded; he and half the squad joined the Jedi while the rest fell back.

The Sith ignited their lightsabers. They leaped and flipped from one level to the next until they reached the ground. The Jedi each picked a Sith to face; the Mandalorians moved in as a group to take the last three. The Sith made the first move; one of the apprentices threw a push and blew Atton off his feet. He flew backwards and landed on his back. The Sith tried to move in and finish him off, but Handmaiden blocked the way. A second apprentice ran up alongside the first; they tried to take Handmaiden two-on-one. The Echani knocked them both back, then whirled her saber to a ready stance. The Sith raised their scarlet blades and closed in.

Visas took the offensive right from the start, driving her opponent back with a flurry of strikes. To her right, a Sith apprentice was attacking Mical full-force… which was exactly how Mical liked to fight. The Sith couldn't land a single blow. Mira had joined the Mandalorians in facing the other four apprentices; they were holding their own for the time being. Atton was back on his feet and fighting shoulder to shoulder with Handmaiden. The Sith facing them were trying to regroup, but the Jedi pair didn't let them. Visas knocked her own opponent back and threw her shoto at him. The Sith blocked the attack and extended his hand. Visas staggered as her throat constricted. The apprentice squeezed tighter, throttling the Miraluka with the dark side. Visas struggled for breath and pulled her saber from behind the Sith. The Sith deflected again. Visas dropped her remaining saber and threw both arms out, blasting outward with a strong Force wave. She hit the Sith choking her, but also caught Mical and his opponent. Visas grabbed her lightsabers and braced for another round.

Mical angled his saber. The Force wave had blown him back from the apprentice he was facing, and he had to reset his feet. The Sith knew how strong Mical's defense was; he circled, trying to find an opening. Mical heard a yell from his left, followed by roars of anger. He glanced over; one Mandalorian was on the ground; the Sith standing over him had been swarmed by the others. Mira had crippled a Sith and was fighting another two-on-one with Kelborn. The last Sith had joined the fight against Atton and Handmaiden, who were still holding their own despite being on the wrong end of a three-on-two. Mical blocked another slash from his opponent, then struck, taking the apprentice's left arm off at the elbow. The Sith screeched in pain and Mical finished him with a slash to the head. He joined Visas, and they finished her adversary before running to help the others. With the tide turned, the rest of the apprentices fell in minutes.

"On me!" Kelborn waved a hand to rally the Mandalorians to him. "How many casualties? Mandalorians, sound off!"

The survivors spoke up one by one. Three Mandalorians were dead and another three more badly injured. The Jedi had all taken some hits, but they were still in fighting shape. Mical and the others gathered at the base of the ziggurat.

"What is this, a temple?" Handmaiden looked up at the dark, imposing stone structure. "I can sense the power from this place. It's like the light abandoned it long ago."

Kelborn shook his head wonderingly. "I'm pretty sure that this is the Tomb of Freedon Nadd. We knew it was somewhere on this moon, we had no idea how close it was to our camp."

Mira whirled and pointed warningly. "Don't say it!"

It was too late; Atton was already grinning. "I've got a _Nadd_ feeling about this."

Mical groaned like he had a stomachache and covered his face with one hand. Handmaiden giggled, and Visas shook her head. "I don't know what you see in him."

Mical became serious. "We need to move quickly. A little over forty years ago, Onderonian cultists led by King Ommin summoned Nadd's spirit from Chaos, in an attempt to gain victory in the Beast Wars. I fear the Sith here might be up to something similar."

"Not to mention the beasts." Mira scratched her head. "The boma were obeying the Sith troopers like attack dogs! How could they accomplish that?"

"I don't know." Mical crossed his arms. "Properly trained Force-users can command animals, but those weren't Dark Jedi, just ordinary soldiers. The Sith haven't been here long enough to have learned to control the beasts, though I suppose they could have hired Beast Riders from Onderon. In any case, the answers we seek are inside the tomb. We must enter, and stop whatever the Sith have set in motion."

Visas had knelt down to examine the dead apprentices. "These aren't the same Sith we faced on Korriban; these are my Master's men." She stood and took a deep, calming breath. "Fortunately, he is not here; we all would have felt him. As I have told you, my Master trained me into his Shadow Hand, his eyes and ears in the galaxy. But a Sith Lord has _two_ Hands; I suspect that the other is the one in command of these Sith." She crossed her arms. "I never knew his real name; he calls himself the Iron Hand. He's a beast, tremendously powerful in addition to being a skilled warrior. Do not underestimate him."

Mical glanced at Kelborn. "Call for reinforcements to secure the camp. We will enter the tomb and clear it."

Kelborn tapped his right fist on his chest plate over his heart. "It will be done, _Jetii_. Go send those _chakaare_ to hell."

* * *

The door to Freedon Nadd's tomb slid open with a wet grinding sound. Mical led the way in, with the rest close behind. They found themselves in a wide hallway of black granite, trimmed with inlays of polished red and gray stone. They began walking, coming to a large, high-ceilinged room. There was a large group of Sith waiting: regular troopers, red-armored elites, boma beasts, and three Dark Jedi, one a Master.

"You see our Masters' power?" An elite trooper stepped forward, brandishing a force pike. "They have erased the minds of these beasts and made them our obedient servants! With an army of these, no one can defeat us!"

Atton waved as if in greeting. "Hello there, I'm No One. Pleased to meet you." He glanced at the others. "Mical, Handmaiden and I will handle the troopers and bomas. You take care of the Dark Jedi."

"The Jedi fall here." The Sith Master drew a double-bladed lightsaber. "These intruders cannot be allowed to reach our master. The ritual must not be interrupted. I don't need to mention the price of failure."

The Sith charged. All five Jedi threw their lightsabers, cutting down more than a dozen before the battle was joined. Mical took the Sith Master, presenting his usual Soresu defense. Mira and one of the apprentices began circling, while Visas attacked her opponent head-on. Several troopers tried to move to help the Dark Jedi, but Handmaiden attacked, forcing them to face her. The last of the bomas leapt at Atton; he dodged it and stabbed down through the top of its head. The massive beast fell dead and Atton moved on to help Handmaiden with the troopers. Mira feinted and slashed at her enemy's throat, but he dropped under the attack and tripped her with a leg scissor. She hit the ground and barely got her saber up before the Sith finished her off. He hacked away at her, denying Mira space to get back to her feet. Off to the right, Mical was in trouble too. The Sith Master was putting the pressure on, not giving Mical any room to gain the initiative. He was defending himself, but the second he made a mistake, he'd be dead.

Visas threw her lightsaber at the apprentice standing over Mira. He blocked it, but Mira kicked him in the crotch and rolled out from underneath. She scrambled to her feet and returned the favor by throwing her _kal_ at Visas' opponent. He ducked the dagger, but Visas took his head off. She pulled her shoto in and ran to help Mical. Mira raised her saber and faced her own adversary. They locked blades; Mira pushed off into a backflip. She kicked off the wall and cut the Sith in half as she went by. Mira retrieved her dagger and joined Atton and Handmaiden in cleaning up the troopers. Visas ran in at the Sith Master, slicing low for his legs. He parried her strike and countered. Mical stepped in to block, leaving Visas open to attack again. The Sith stopped her with a powerful push. Visas skidded backwards, but kept her feet. She moved in carefully, angling her sabers. He matched her with his double-blade, then spun to block Mical's attack from behind. Mical had been feinting; he hopped away and blew the Sith back with a push of his own, driving him into Visas' cross slash.

"Seven hells." Mira took a deep breath and began healing a minor cut on her arm. "They want to keep us out pretty bad."

Handmaiden folded her arms. "I do not know what they plan here, but it is evil. I can feel it."

"The Sith Master said something about a ritual. He didn't want it interrupted." Atton cracked his knuckles. "Let's go interrupt it."

"Cocky, Atton." Mical smiled faintly. "I agree. We need to hurry."

The entrance to the tomb's inner sanctum was a pair of massive stone doors. They grated open to reveal a chilling sight. A seven-meter-tall statue of Freedon Nadd was reflected in a rectangular pool of water. Before the statue, the sarcophagus served as an altar to the ancient Sith Lord. Seven Sith Masters knelt in a circle around the altar, waving their hands as they worked their spell. Above them, a blood-red cloud of pure dark side energy pulsed and crackled.

One of the Sith looked up at the sound of the doors. "Break the ritual, now!"

The Sith Masters dropped their arms. The cloud of evil energy flashed bright; massive bolts of violet lightning blasted down and struck three of the Sith. They fell dead on the spot.

The lead Sith strode forward, throwing back his hood. Mical gasped. "He's a Massassi!"

Visas was right-the Iron Hand was a beast. Taller than Bao-Dur and heavily muscled, the Hand had crimson skin, a pair of fleshy tendrils hanging from his cheeks, and glowing yellow eyes. He wore black-and-silver armored robes, heavy boots, and a black leather headband with engraved armor plates. He bared his teeth. "You are too late. We have done what needed to be done. Soon Onderon shall fall, and with it, the Republic shall die."

"You lie." Visas crossed her arms. "Your ritual is incomplete, and we will not allow you to attempt it again."

The Hand glared at her, then his eyes widened. "The Miraluka? You still live?" He smiled cruelly. "He is your Master too, Shadow Hand. When I have finished your friends, I will bring you back to him."

"I would rather die," Visas said. "I will never serve Darth-"

The Hand drowned her out with a bellow of rage. " _Silence!_ He is the hungry shadow, the end of all life, and his name is not to be spoken, especially by your worthless lips!"

Visas shook her head. "I will not be cowed. We will defeat you, and my Master will defeat him, as surely as the next sunrise. You fear him-fear his very name." She stood straight and proud. "I name him! _Nihilus!_ "

The Hand jumped slightly, then snarled. "You will pay for your disrespect. The Jedi will die, and our Master will drink your despair as you kneel at his feet!"

Visas moistened her lips. "Mical, I will need your help with this one."

He nodded and moved up on her left side. The Hand raised one hand and shot lightning at Visas. She caught the bolt on the palm of her left hand and sent it right back at him. He ducked and glared at her. The Hand drew an extra-long saber hilt and grinned menacingly, then ignited the blade. It was a greatsaber-the blade was more than two meters long. The Massassi roared a challenge and charged, bringing the huge saber around. Mical set his feet and angled his saber for a perfect Soresu block. It didn't work; the force of the Iron Hand's blow knocked him off his feet and across the room. The Hand ran to finish Mical, but Visas ran into his path. The big Sith laughed and swung vertically. Visas deflected the blade and countered with her shoto, landing a painful but harmless cut to his shoulder. The Massassi grunted and kicked Visas in the side. She staggered but Mical ran in; he blocked the Hand's follow-up and shoved him back. The Jedi pair dropped into defensive stances side by side.

Atton moved left, eying one of the Sith Masters. Handmaiden stepped up next to him. The Sith gestured and a second Master moved in to form a fighting pair. The Jedi shifted, Handmaiden moving slightly ahead. She powered on her lightsaber, the twin silver blades shining in the murky tomb. The Sith drew their sabers; one faced Handmaiden with a long and short set while the other readied a single lightsaber. Atton began to move in, then had an idea. He doused his saber, then activated his stealth belt and vanished. The Sith froze for a moment, then both advanced on Handmaiden. She took a deep breath then ran in full speed, denying the Sith time to get set up. Her assault was classic Ataru: a hail of strikes from all angles as she leapt and spun around her opponents. The Sith Masters were stopping all of her attacks, but it was taking both of them to hold her off. Handmaiden began changing her moves to influence where the Sith stepped and which way they were facing. She spotted an opening and thought _now, Atton!_

Atton's saber blazed to life as he struck from the shadows. The Sith Master he was attacking moved as fast as Meetra to block in time. He faced Atton silently for a moment, their locked blades reflected in his silver mask. The Sith braced and pushed, hurling Atton backwards. Before he could hit the floor, the Sith caught him in a grip. He slammed Atton into the walls over and over, then threw him. Atton bounced off the statue of Nadd and splashed into the reflecting pool. Handmaiden made to run to him, but both Sith blocked her path. Handmaiden fought frantically, trying to break through. She couldn't see where Atton had fallen, couldn't tell if he was just lightly injured and getting his breath back, or unconscious and drowning… A moment's worried distraction, and one of the Sith Masters twisted his sabers and spun her double-blade out of her hand. The second Sith brought his blade around, but Handmaiden backflipped out of the way. She reached to the small of her back and drew her staff just as the first Sith threw his shoto to finish her. Handmaiden blocked just in time and angled her staff defensively as the Sith spread out to surround her.

Mira parried a saber strike and countered with an upwards diagonal slash. She was doing all right one-on-one, but the others were in trouble, and she couldn't figure a way to help them. If any of the others fell, the Sith would be all over her. Then she saw it-Handmaiden's saber, lying on the floor a short distance away. Mira ducked a high slash and rolled to the side. She staggered her adversary with a kick to the knee, then blew him back with a push. The Sith Master whirled his double-blade and began advancing. Mira raised her right hand and began firing darts. The Sith spun, dodged, and flipped, avoiding all ten. Mira launched her last rocket. The Sith took a tremendous leap as it hit and exploded behind him. Mira ran hard and scooped up the saber. She called out to Handmaiden and threw it. Handmaiden caught it, extended the blades, and staggered the Sith with a flurry of strikes.

Mira was turning back to face her opponent when she was lifted into the air by a whirlwind. She spun crazily and was thrown to the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Mira tried to stand, but the Sith kicked her in the ribs and sent her sliding across the stone floor. The Sith was raising his saber for a fatal blow when Atton de-cloaked behind him and cut him down.

He limped over, leaned down, and pulled Mira to her feet. "Are you all right?"

Mira stood gingerly and felt her ribs. "I can fight. You?"

Atton had a bloody nose and a cut lip to go with the injured leg. He nodded grimly. "I can fight."

They turned and moved to help Handmaiden, who was fighting desperately with her back to a wall. Mira arrived first, crashing into the battle in a full sprint. She threw a push at one Sith and drove him back. Handmaiden jumped, kicked off the wall, and landed next to Atton. There was a brief pause, then both sides went on the attack. Atton and Handmaiden took the Sith carrying two lightsabers. He fought with Form V, using every parry as the start of a counterattack. Atton got in with a quick move and managed to spin the shoto out of his hand. The Sith dodged a slash from Handmaiden and let out a Force-enhanced scream. The piercing blast of sound made both Jedi fall to their knees. The Sith delivered several powerful kicks to Handmaiden's head and upper body, then raised his saber to finish her. Atton sent the Sith into the wall with a tremendous push, then pulled him in for a stab. Handmaiden was unconscious; Atton and Mira faced the last Sith together.

Mira circled, threatening the Sith Master's flank. He parried her attack, then Atton's. They dueled for a minute or so, the Sith spinning back and forth in a blur. He staggered Atton and slashed downward; the pilot got his blade up in time, but was still knocked to the ground and lost his saber. He tripped the Sith with his good leg, then dove on him. They wrestled over the remaining saber, each trying to use it on the other. They were in such a tight clinch that Mira couldn't intervene without hitting Atton too. Atton slammed the Sith's saber hand into the floor until he dropped it; Mira ran up and kicked it away, then went to check on Handmaiden. The Sith got a hand free and punched him in the jaw. Atton responded with a headbutt. They both tumbled into the pool, with Atton on the bottom. He kneed the Sith in the groin and rolled. Atton managed to mount, then grabbed the Sith by the throat and forced his head under the water. He ignored the Sith's punches and held him down until the bubbles stopped and the Sith went still.

Visas dodged a swing of the Hand's massive saber. She and Mical were battered, but they'd given as good as they got and the Massassi warrior was tiring. He threw lightning at Mical, who deflected it with his saber. The Hand followed up with a leg sweep. He connected and knocked Mical down. Visas ran between them. She parried the Hand's attack and slashed vertically. The Hand blocked high, then slashed for her legs. Visas went for the standard Shien counter and jumped over the attack while kicking for her opponent's head. The Hand knew it was coming and caught her leg. Visas lashed out with her other leg; the Hand took a kick to the gut, grunted in pain, then swung Visas and threw her like a doll. Visas used her momentum to land, spin, and throw both sabers. The Hand blocked them both and whirled to lock blades with Mical.

"Jedi fools," he hissed. "You should never have come to this place. I will leave your corpses for the beasts of the jungle!"

Mical shook his head. "Whatever your Master's plan for this system, it ends here. Yield."

The Hand snarled and shoved, then took another swing. Mical blocked it and Visas leapt in from the right. The Hand sidestepped, but Mical came back in and knocked his blade upward. Visas came in under his guard and struck home with a rising cross slash.

Visas and Mical stood for a moment, catching their breath, then went to check on the others. Handmaiden had regained consciousness, but was dazed and weak. Atton could barely walk, and Mira was in pain with every breath. They helped each other to the entrance and outside. The storm had ended and the sky was a brilliant, clear blue. A Q-carrier had arrived with reinforcements, and Kelborn was waiting for them.

Mical waved. "I've got wounded here!"

Several Mandalorians ran up and got Atton and Handmaiden onto stretchers. Kelborn stepped up next to Mical. "Is it done, _Jetii?_ "

Mical smiled tiredly. "It is. What happened with Master Meetra?"

The others leaned in to listen; Kelborn sat back and began filling them in on Meetra's part of the mission.

* * *

 **A/N: This is a big moment, the first time the Padawans really have to stand on their own. It's a massive test, and it needed more of a boss than a generic Dark Jedi Master, so I created the Iron Hand. For those of you who play SWTOR, 'Massassi' is the warrior sub-race of the Sith Pureblood.**


	38. Onderon Palace, part one

**Disclaimer: I did not invent the outer-space dogfight.**

* * *

Meetra stood next to Mandalore as the hangar doors slid open. The Basilisk war droid looked like a durasteel beetle. Two pairs of wings were folded back above and below the fuselage. Mandalore began leading Meetra around the vessel. "Your main armament is blaster cannon: two pair in mounts on either side of the cockpit. Under the upper wings, you've got swarm missiles." He chuckled. "We designed them to hit those damned Paladins of yours. They fire in volleys with smart targeting. They can blanket an area to hit enemies in formation, track down separate targets, or surround a single target to ensure one or two hits. The pods hold sixty each. I suggest letting your droid handle the targeting, but it's up to you. The lower wing pods are a jammer and decoy launcher." He opened the hatch and pointed Meetra to the pilot's seat. "The controls look complicated, but they're actually fairly easy; the _Bes'uliik_ handles a lot like a space suit thruster pack, only faster and more agile. Your arms go in there, and you grip the handles like so. Pitch and roll is your right hand, directional thrusting your left, yaw is the foot pedals. The thumb sticks control the cannon; you've got about thirty degrees of traverse from center. The HUD will show you a reticle for each gun mount, and they can be aimed independently." Mandalore backed out of the way so that Meetra and T3 could enter the cockpit. "Take care, Surik. Your shields and armor are much heavier forward than aft. Mandalorians don't turn our backs during a fight."

Meetra nodded. "Thank you, Mandalore."

T3 tooted and rolled into the cockpit; Meetra stopped and looked back. Mandalore followed her gaze to her other companions, who were preparing to search the jungle. "They'll be all right, Surik."

Meetra heaved a deep sigh and nodded, then turned and climbed into the Basilisk. Mandalore jumped down and headed to his shuttle, where Kreia, Bao-Dur, and HK were waiting. "Get yourselves situated. Zabrak, you're on the tail gun. Droid, there's no artificial gravity in the cargo compartment; you'll need to use the webbing to secure yourself."

"Reply: Acknowledged, Mandalorian," HK said. "I will be ready when we land." He stepped into the cargo bay and lay down, pulling the hatch shut. Mandalore led the way into the G-wing's cabin, pointing Bao-Dur to the rear-facing gunner's seat. The ground crew uncoupled fueling hoses, pulled arming pins, and cleared the way for both craft to take off.

Meetra gripped the control sticks and took a deep breath. She had dozens of combat missions in Star Sabers and Paladins, and had some flight time in Stingers, Aureks, and Chelas. The basics were always the same. Meetra powered on the repulsorlifts and gave the Basilisk a little thrust to float out of the hangar. Once clear, she added power and began to climb. The powerful main engines slammed Meetra into the seat, despite the inertial dampers. The war droid had similar handling characteristics to most other craft its size, but that was because the wings were still folded for atmospheric flight. According to Mandalore, once she hit vacuum, everything would change. Meetra kept an eye on her gauges. The backup analog dials were all in Mandalorian, but T3 had programmed the screens and HUD to display in Basic. Mandalore's shuttle was trailing in formation, about a kilometer back. The sky ahead was clear, for the moment.

The sound of rushing air quieted as the Basilisk left the atmosphere. The wings unfolded, and the war droid transformed from a beetle to a silver butterfly. The engines now pointed in four different directions diagonally, not directly aft. They worked with the thrusters to give Meetra incredible agility. She tried a series of maneuvers and grinned-the Basilisk handled like a dream. Meetra called up full thrust and accelerated toward Onderon. Mandalore swore in her headset-she was leaving him behind. Meetra chuckled to herself and throttled back to half power.

Mandalore pulled up alongside her. "Having fun, Surik?"

"Oh, yes." Meetra snapped the Basilisk through three complete rolls. "I haven't flown anything with this much spirit in _years_."

"I hope you're not rusty," Mandalore said. "Check your sensors, Jedi."

Meetra glanced down at her displays. There was a large group of fighters moving into position to block their path to the planet. The group was a mix of Stingers and Sith Interceptors, dozens of them. Meetra gripped the sticks tightly. "Here we go. Mandalore, hang back. I want you to stay out of a ten-kilometer radius until I'm out of missiles. After that, close in and try to keep my tail covered."

"Understood, Surik. Give them hell." Mandalore cut his engines and dropped back.

Meetra took a deep breath and watched the enemy fighters approach. Missile range was fifty klicks-less than a minute, at the rate they were closing. The Stingers were in the center of the formation; the faster interceptors would try to spread out and surround her. Twenty seconds. "All right, T3," Meetra called. "Lock them up and knock 'em down!"

The astromech whistled excitedly. Diamonds began overlaying the squares on the HUD. T3 marked targets for two volleys of twelve missiles each. Ten seconds. Five. T3 bleeped, and Meetra heard the roar of rockets right through the droid's hull. The missile pods fired out to the sides; each pod launched two bursts of six, five seconds apart. Smoke trails curved gracefully through the darkness as the swarm of missiles roared toward the enemy. The PDF and Sith fighters popped decoys, but to no avail. The missiles were not aimed at individual targets, but at predetermined points in space. Half a minute after launch, the warheads began exploding within the fighter formation. Shrapnel cut down at least ten ships. Meetra slammed the throttle to full and blazed in toward the cloud of fighters, another dozen missiles racing ahead of her. The second missile launch wiped out most of a Sith squadron, but three fighters closed in. Meetra tapped the left stick and the Basilisk thrust laterally, jumping aside to avoid the incoming fire. Meetra twisted around and pulled the trigger on her guns. The twin cannon in each mount fired alternately with a solid _thud-thud-thud_. One hit was enough to wreck the lead interceptor; Meetra tapped the rudder pedal and shot down the other two before they could break away.

T3 screeched a warning and fired another salvo. More fighters were closing in from above. Meetra responded instinctively with a combination roll and flip. She fired the guns separately, almost like aiming two pistols. An alarm blared; a squadron of Stingers was locking proton torpedoes. Meetra launched her own decoys, but there too many torps coming at her.

Meetra kicked in full throttle again, then spun and flew the Basilisk backwards. "T3, lock on to the torpedoes!"

The astromech twittered understanding and fired his last volley. The small, agile swarm missiles took out all but four of the incoming torps. Meetra began shooting, but had trouble hitting them with her slow-firing cannon. She dropped one torpedo, then another… and then the last pair fell to a storm of fire from below. Mandalore roared past in his G-wing, and Bao-Dur waved from the rear gunner's station.

"Nice timing," Meetra deadpanned. "Mandalore, we're making a run for Iziz. Bao-Dur can hold them off until we set down."

Mandalore acknowledged and came around, staying behind Meetra where the tail gun could cover them both. They blazed away with their cannon, cutting a path through the remaining fighters. The guns of Iziz opened up as they descended. Meetra twisted through a series of evasive maneuvers, dodging enemy fire and nearly colliding with a speeding fighter as she dove for the deck. The war droid rocked as it was hit. T3 shut down the cannon and transferred power from the weapons system to reinforce the shields. More and more AA fire slammed into Meetra's ship. The shields failed with a loud pop and Meetra started taking hits on the hull. She held her course, aiming for the large plaza in front of the Palace. Another hit, and T3 wailed in alarm: the repulsorlifts were damaged and the Basilisk was losing altitude. Meetra folded the wings for some lift and searched for a closer landing site. She banked towards the market square. There was barely enough power left in the repulsorlifts to soften the landing. The Basilisk hit and slid, tearing up paving stones. The ship ground to a halt and Meetra unstrapped from the pilot's seat. The hatch was jammed, so she slashed her way out. T3 rolled up to the opening, and Meetra lifted him down to the ground. A pair of Onderonian troopers arrived, took one look at her sabers, and ran.

Mandalore flared the G-wing to a landing next to Meetra; his passengers piled out and gathered between the ships. Meetra ran up to them. "Nice work. Which way to the Palace?"

Mandalore brought out a map. "The gun towers and wall defenses are connected by the Sky Ramps. We need to get up onto the walkways and then follow them northeast to the Palace. There are several checkpoints we will need to pass. If they're in royalist hands, it shouldn't be a problem. If not, we'll have to break through." He hefted his big repeater. "Let's move."

* * *

They were crossing the market square when Vaklu's people showed up in force. A pair of APCs and four trucks rumbled into the plaza; forty or fifty troopers dismounted and began spreading out. The APCs' cannon swung to point directly at Meetra.

"Drop your weapons!" The voice came from a loudspeaker on one of the APCs. "You have ten seconds, Jedi. Surrender or be shot!"

Kreia chuckled dryly. "I will silence this one."

She raised her arms; the armored vehicles lifted off the ground, flipped, and crashed to the ground upside-down. The troopers jumped in shock, then shouted and began shooting. HK and Mandalore stood their ground and returned fire. Meetra blasted a push ahead of her, then charged into the fray with Bao-Dur right behind her. They ripped through the PDF platoon in two minutes, then headed for the Sky Ramp. The checkpoint was held by a squad, backed up by several heavy repeater turrets. The fire was too heavy even for Meetra to block, and she was forced to take cover behind a pile of rubble. HK stepped out and fired, destroying the turrets one after another. The squad fell back; Meetra and the others charged, but the separatists powered on a force field to block the way. Meetra tried to stop from a full sprint and shocked herself on the force field. A PDF trooper on the other side grinned and made a rude gesture.

Meetra snapped her fingers. "Bao-Dur?"

The big Zabrak grinned and slammed his repulsor fist into the barrier, which flickered out. The separatist squad was dead in seconds. Meetra led the way up to the walkways high above the city. They made good time from the Merchant Quarter to the central district. Up ahead, several Sky Ramps met at a junction, a landing pad sticking out from one of the turret towers. There was a battle underway on the pad. A large group of masked separatists were besieging a bunker full of royalists. They had set up durasteel blast shields for cover, and were leaning out to shoot at the bunker's firing slits. Meetra and her companions tore into the PDF troopers from behind, catching them completely by surprise. They wiped the separatists out quickly.

The bunker door slid open and a royalist officer waved. "Get in, quick!" He pointed upward; two Aurek fighters were coming in on a strafing run. The group dove into the bunker as cannon fire tore up the pad.

The officer closed the door and sealed it. "Nice to see you again, Jedi." Captain Riiken turned and grinned at Meetra. "Someone wants to talk to you-let me get them on comm." He worked at a terminal for a moment, and the screen came on.

Xaart was wearing Republic armor now. "Good afternoon, General Surik. I'm glad you made it. We saw your shuttle coming in, but Vaklu's people were between you and us, so we couldn't provide any support." He began typing; a hologram of the city appeared in front of Meetra. "This is the situation: Vaklu's forces have almost total control of the city. His followers include most of the PDF as well as Tobin and his Lancers, and he's got Sith allies, including Dark Jedi. They are holding the turret towers, using them as fortresses to control the streets. Queen Talia is supported by her royal guard-the Paladins-and the Onderonian Navy. The PDF has control of the air, and all the turret towers but the one I'm in now. Vaklu's people are already fighting inside the outer hallways of the Palace. The Paladins are putting up a good fight, but they can't hold him forever. Vaklu has called for more reinforcements from the city, and the Palace is being bombarded by artillery from the Gatehouse-the major PDF fortress in the wall. Right now, that bunker you're standing in is the only thing keeping the separatist forces in the city from moving up the Sky Ramp and overrunning the Palace."

Xaart crossed his arms. "So here's the plan. I am with a group of PDF who support the Queen, but we're near the Gatehouse, twenty kilometers away from you. Admiral Daynar is landing troops from orbit to take the Gatehouse and stop the shelling. After that, we'll take the city, one tower at a time. Surik, your people and Captain Riiken are the only ones close enough to get to the Palace before the Paladins are wiped out. You have to take the turret tower first; you need protection from PDF fighters, or they'll get you when you're exposed on the last ramp to the Palace. There is a mix of PDF and Sith holding the Palace entrance; Vaklu and Tobin are both inside, fighting their way to the Queen. Good luck."

Meetra nodded to herself and turned to Riiken. "How many men do you have left?"

"Seventeen," the captain replied. "What are your orders?"

"Tower's easy enough," said Meetra. "Let us handle it; take the time to get your people ready to move out."

Meetra stepped out of the bunker and headed for the tower. Bao-Dur spread out to her left, Kreia to her right, with HK, T3, and Mandalore following behind. The soldiers inside began shooting out of firing ports in the door; the Jedi deflected the bolts without even breaking stride. The Aureks were back, diving in to blast the landing pad. HK stopped and took aim as the others kept running. He fired at the lead fighter; the armor-piercing dart tore through the Aurek's canopy and killed the pilot. The fighter went out of control and plummeted into the city; the second fighter had to pull up to avoid a collision. Meetra reached the tower, stuck her sabers into the door, and began cutting around the locking mechanism. The lock fell out of the door; Bao-Dur grabbed the edge and slid the door open. Mandalore tossed in a grenade and Meetra dashed inside a second after the blast. The few troopers who had survived the grenade were still stunned, and Meetra finished them before they could recover.

"Let's get these guns going." Meetra gestured; T3 tooted and rolled up to the control console. The tower had a twin blaster cannon turret at the top and a quad repeater on each side. All five turrets opened fire, forcing the PDF and Sith fighters to stay clear. The separatists had no more air cover over the Palace.

"General Surik!" Riiken ran up with his squad behind him. "You need to get going _now_. Xaart just sent a warning: the separatists have just pulled out of the Gatehouse. There's a reinforced battalion on the way here, a mix of PDF and Lancers with armor and air support. They mean to break through and reinforce Vaklu at the Palace; they'll be here in ten minutes." The captain glanced back at the Sky Ramps leading into the city. "We can't delay them for long, Jedi. You have to go."

Mandalore glanced at HK and nodded; the assassin loaded a fresh magazine. "Statement: Master, take the royalist soldiers with you. The Mandalorian and I will hold this crossroads."

"Two against a battalion?" Riiken shook his head. "That fight is completely one-sided!"

"You're right." Mandalore hefted his repeater. "They'll need more men."

Riiken chuckled. "Well, I love your enthusiasm." He waved to his men. "We'll give you a hand getting set up."

* * *

The royalist squad took a few minutes to reposition the blast shields. They moved them into an irregular line in front of the tower and bunker, with plenty of open ground for a kill-zone. Meetra and the rest left to break the siege. HK and Mandalore loaded up on grenades and settled down to wait. They didn't wait long; HK spotted movement down one of the ramps. A squad of infantry was coming up the ramp from the Market District. The pair took cover behind the walls at the edge of the pad, crouching out of view of the approaching troops.

"HK, I don't know what the current state of your memory is," Mandalore said quietly. "I wonder if you remember the game we used to enjoy."

HK-47 looked over at the Mandalorian. "Query: Is the meatbag referring to 'Who's the better killer?'"

Beneath the mask of Mandalore, Canderous Ordo smiled. "Let's play."

They popped out from behind the wall, firing into the approaching soldiers. There was no real cover on the ramp, so the troopers dropped prone to avoid Mandalore's repeater. That just made them easy targets for HK, who began eliminating the squad one man at a time. He'd have gotten them all, had he not been forced to cover by more soldiers firing from another ramp to the left. Mandalore pivoted to take on the new arrivals, and the pair fell back to their hasty defenses.

HK shot a pair of troopers who were moving to flank, then dropped behind a blast shield. "Alert: Reloading!"

Mandalore nodded and unleashed a continuous burst from his heavy repeater, suppressing the enemy. HK slammed in a new magazine and stood up shooting. The PDF threw grenades, but HK shot them out of the air. More fire came from the right-a group of Lancers was hammering away with repeating carbines. Mandalore swung around and pinned them down with heavy fire. The PDF regulars on the left tried to rush him, but HK gunned them down methodically. The Lancers fell back down the ramp; there was a momentary lull in the fighting. Mandalore and HK both shifted position to different blast shields. The second wave began with the Lancers coming back up the right side. PDF troopers came from three other ramps at once. A Lancer produced a grenade launcher and began destroying the blast shields one by one. HK shot him before he could find the right target. He tossed a grenade into the Lancers, killing three and wounding at least twice that many. Mandalore swept his stream of repeater fire back and forth, shredding the charging soldiers. The infantry broke and ran, leaving more than sixty dead lying on the pad.

The pair was getting ready for the next wave when Mandalore's comm chirped; it was Xaart. "Brace yourselves. The main force is about to reach your position. It's a mechanized column with a _lot_ of air support. The Navy is sending fighters to cover you, but it will be a few minutes before they arrive."

Mandalore swore and ran to the group of dead Lancers. He grabbed the grenade launcher and bandolier, then ran back to the line. HK reloaded his rifle and took cover. T3 shrilled a warning; eight Aureks were zooming in. They spread out to divide the tower's fire and dove toward the pad, opening up with their cannon. The heavy fire forced the defenders to hunker down until the fighters had made their first pass. T3 kept up a steady stream of fire from his turrets, knocking down two of the Aureks as they swept past. Then the ground forces arrived. Two light speeders came up the ramps with a platoon of infantry behind. They closed in, shooting. Mandalore blasted one of the speeders with the grenade launcher; HK killed the gunner on the other. Both defenders fired into the infantry, cutting them down as they tried to advance. The remaining Aureks came in for another strafing run. They forced the defenders to cover but T3 shot them all down. A trooper hopped onto the back of the second speeder and manned the gun. Mandalore popped up and blew the speeder to pieces. He took cover and began reloading the launcher. The infantry tried to rush him, but HK forced them back with well-aimed fire.

Four APCs climbed up onto the pad with dozens of troopers behind them. They began blasting away with their cannon. Mandalore fired his last four shells for the launcher, but the grenades didn't penetrate the vehicles' armor; he swore and switched to his repeater. The APCs dropped their ramps and Lancers poured out, blazing away with carbines. Mandalore threw a frag into the open ramp on one of the carriers, which blew sky-high. HK tossed smoke grenades and the pair fell back. Mandalore headed for the bunker; HK ran into the tower and pulled the damaged door most of the way shut, leaving a small slit to fire through. The remaining APCs kept shooting; more light speeders arrived to pour fire onto the defenders. HK emptied clip after clip at the huge number of infantry swarming up the ramps. Mandalore's repeater overheated and vented its coolant with a loud hiss; he dropped it, drew his disintegrator, and kept firing. The armor closed in to blow open the bunker.

Blaster fire slammed into the separatist forces from above. A flight of Navy Aureks screamed overhead, then came around for another pass. Vaklu's people were caught in the open with no cover; the fighters tore them up. The gunners on the light speeders shifted their fire to the sky, trying to drive the Aureks off. This took the pressure off Mandalore, who got fresh coolant into his repeater and opened fire. The separatists wavered and began to fall back towards the ramps. Then the ground started to shake. A PDF tank rolled up the center ramp and onto the pad. It blasted the tower top and knocked out the guns. A squadron of PDF Stingers arrived on the scene and engaged the Aureks, forcing them to stop strafing and defend themselves. The tank moved in, spraying the bunker with repeater fire. Mandalore hit the floor just before the tank blew a gaping hole in the bunker. He slung his repeater and scrambled outside, firing his pistol one-handed on the run.

The tower doors slid open; HK and T3 powered on shields and came out shooting. The commander's cupola atop the tank's turret swung to engage them with a repeater. HK was hit, but his shields took the brunt of it. He jumped onto the top of the turret and smashed the cupola's vision blocks. HK stood on the turret hatch and fired his flamethrower through the smashed cupola. There were screams and a frantic hammering on the hatch, then silence. HK got clear of the tank just before its ammunition cooked off and the turret blew into the air. Mandalore and T3 came up alongside, spraying the remaining infantry with rapid fire. A pair of Chelas dove on the Stingers from above; three PDF fighters fell and the rest scattered. The Aureks returned to ground attack with the Chelas flying top cover. It was too much; the separatists routed and fled down into the city.

Mandalore set his repeater on the ground, took a sip from his helmet's beverage tube, and let out a long sigh. "Water will do for now. Could use a few pints of _ne'tra gal_ , though."

"Statement: We have driven off the separatist reinforcements," HK said. "Query: Shouldn't we link up with the Jedi at the Palace?"

Mandalore shook his head. "We've done our job." He chuckled. "Besides, Surik doesn't need our help. She's going to tear Vaklu apart."

* * *

Meetra walked slowly and calmly up the Sky Ramp. Bao-Dur and Kreia were abreast of her to the left and right. Riiken and his men followed behind; they had secured four repeating carbines from dead Lancers back at the turret tower. Another force field blocked access to the plaza in front of the Royal Palace. Bao-Dur bashed right through it and the Jedi stepped out onto the plaza. A company of PDF troopers was waiting behind a line of blast shields, rifles aimed. They opened fire at Meetra as soon as she came into view. The Jedi began a series of precise saber movements, deflecting the incoming fire back at their attackers. Riiken and his men spread out behind them and began engaging the PDF force. Kreia threw a push and flipped one of the blast shields, crushing three troopers. The two men nearest the flipped barricade lost their nerve and ran back toward the Palace. They skidded to a stop as a masked woman in black robes stepped out the front gate. The Sith Master choked one man, lifting him clear off the ground. She blasted the other with lightning, then let the first man fall to the pavement.

The Sith drew a double-blade as another Master and two warriors emerged from the Palace. "Hold the line. Cowards will be dealt with."

The PDF infantry stood their ground; they were more afraid of the Sith behind them then the Jedi in front. Riiken's repeater gunners began suppressing the barricade. Bao-Dur leapt forward, smashing down into the PDF line and scattering the troopers. Meetra was right behind him, cutting down soldiers left and right. The troopers were forced out of cover where Riiken's men could hit them. They had no choice but to charge and hope for the best. When the wild melee was over, the PDF were all dead, but the four Sith stood silently, waiting.

"We'll handle this." Meetra gestured to Riiken to keep his men back; they took cover among the blast shields. "Kreia, take the second Master. Bao-Dur, stay close; we've got the other three."

The big Zabrak nodded and brought his saber up. The four Sith walked forward slowly. The lead Master was a female humanoid a little shorter than Meetra; she really could have been any of two dozen species behind her mask. She drew a pair of shotos. The two Sith warriors were wearing black fiber armor and masks. They spread out to either side of the leader. The second Master was a big, dark-skinned man in heavy armor wielding a double-blade. He snarled and advanced on Kreia. The old woman raised her saber defensively, daring the Sith to attack first. He came on with a diagonal slash from above. Kreia parried, feinted low, then struck shoulder-high. The Sith blocked with his second blade. Kreia sidestepped and circled toward his off hand, then blew him into the air with a whirlwind. The Sith flipped forward and landed behind Kreia, slashing at her back. She stopped the strike and backpedaled, saber up and her left arm behind for balance. The big Sith smiled cruelly and raised his saber for another attack.

Meetra angled her sabers, taking a deep breath. Bao-Dur was lined up against the Sith warrior on the left, and Meetra was facing the Master. That left the second warrior loose; she had to be wary of an attack from her flank. The sneak attack came as expected. Meetra blocked it easily, but it was a diversion. The Master switched places with the first Sith warrior and went after Bao-Dur. The pair of warriors came on hard and fast, pinning Meetra between them. They were very skilled and aggressive, working in perfect unison to keep her on the defensive. She couldn't break out of the duel; the Zabrak was on his own against a Sith Master. The Master moved in with a furious flurry of attacks. Bao-Dur backed up a step, spinning his saber to ward off his opponent. He countered with a flat slash, but only hit air. The Sith feinted low, then went for the throat with her off hand. Bao-Dur had to retreat again; the Master was pushing him further away from Meetra. He blocked two quick strikes but took a hard kick to the ribs. The Sith choked him; Bao-Dur's remote flew forward and stung the Sith with its laser, briefly distracting her. The Zabrak went on the offensive with a series of powerful swings, hammering the Sith's guard.

The two Sith warriors were giving Meetra all she could handle. Their technique was brilliant; she had to work to make an opening to get in attacks of her own. Meetra managed to spin around one of her opponents and connect with an elbow to the jaw. The man's mask absorbed some of the impact, but he still briefly stunned. Meetra kicked him in the stomach, then attacked the other warrior full-force, driving him back. She let loose a huge wave of the Force, blew the warriors into the air, and threw her lightsabers at them. Both warriors shot lightning before the sabers hit; the Sith were killed, but Meetra was badly shocked. She cried out and fell to the ground. Meetra tried to get to her feet, to move at all, but her nerves were screaming and her limbs were numb. She could only watch helplessly as Bao-Dur fought a Sith Master completely alone. He was on the attack and slamming the Sith backwards with every hit, but it couldn't last. Bao-Dur was making the same mistake as when they'd dueled on Dantooine: he was hitting with tremendous strength, but at the expense of speed. The Sith was much faster than him, and it was only a matter of time before she found an opening and struck home. Bao-Dur wound up for a diagonal slash. Meetra saw the kill coming, but she couldn't call out a warning. The Sith parried with her left hand and sliced at the Zabrak's throat with her right.

Bao-Dur blocked with his mechanical arm, then clamped his left hand on the Sith's right wrist. He forced her arms apart and delivered a powerful headbutt. She staggered backwards and Bao-Dur followed up with a massive uppercut. The Sith's head snapped back; she fell to the pavement and didn't get up. Meetra felt a wash of relief as the Zabrak jogged over to her. "Master Meetra! Kreia, is she all right?"

"She has been paralyzed. Give thanks that your master has such strength; a lesser woman would have been killed instantly." Kreia knelt by Meetra's side. "I can heal her, Iridonian, but I need time. You must defend us."

Bao-Dur nodded, then waved to the loyalist squad. Riiken and his men ran over. Four men took a knee near Meetra while the rest formed a line. They got set up just in time; a Sith apprentice charged out of the palace leading about thirty troopers armed with blasters and blades-and a dozen boma beasts. Bao-Dur took another huge leap and landed fist-first. The shockwave tossed Sith like toys, and the royalists opened up on them. Bao-Dur attacked the bomas, wielding his saber one-handed and fending off the beasts with his left arm. Riiken's repeater gunners focused fire on the troopers, keeping them pinned down while the Zabrak finished the bomas. The apprentice tried to take him on with two troopers backing him up. Bao-Dur pressured them with a series of startlingly fast, light attacks. The troopers fell in moments; the apprentice did a little better, but Bao-Dur got a low strike in and wounded him in the lower leg, then spun and took his head off.

Meetra got to her feet, smiling. "Well done, Bao-Dur. Don't scare me like that-I thought that Master had you for sure."

"She almost did." The big Zabrak grinned. "I hope it's never that close again. When I built my arm, I used some phrik alloy in the plating, but that was to protect the mechanicals from the repulsor beam. I wasn't sure it would stop a full-power saber blade."

Meetra stretched, the last of the numbness leaving her body. "No time to rest. Let's get in there and finish this."

* * *

 **A/N: I _loved_ writing this part. KotOR focuses heavily on the Jedi, so it was fun to take a moment aside and throw in a _Macross_ -style dogfight, and a couple of badasses with guns holding off a whole damn army. Did you enjoy it? Please, leave a review!**


	39. Onderon Palace, part two

**Disclaimer: KotOR is the property of the Walt Disney Corporation. And so far, that is a good thing.**

* * *

The moment Meetra got in the palace gate, she saw Tobin. He was about a hundred meters away, at the far end of the entry hall. He was standing with a mixed group of PDF and Sith soldiers, watching a large… something battering at a force field. She broke into a full sprint, right at him. Tobin glanced her way and his eyes popped. He spun and shouted an order; a heavy blast door slammed shut just before Meetra reached it. She drew her saber and tried to burn the lock; the metal wouldn't cut. Meetra slammed her fist in frustration.

"I'm impressed you made it this far. But you are too late." Tobin's smug voice came from a console next to the door. "Soon the Queen will be dead, and General Vaklu will be the new King." Tobin smiled smugly. "This is no ordinary door between us. The same material is used for the hull of capital-class vessels. I'm afraid you will find it quite impregnable."

Meetra ground her teeth. "Any door can be opened, Tobin. This isn't over."

Tobin laughed. "I'm afraid it is. Now if you will excuse me, we have one last barrier to take care of." The comm cut out.

Bao-Dur snapped his fingers; his remote droid hovered down and tried to interface with the console. There was a sizzling sound and the smell of burnt plastic; blue smoke curled out of the console. The droid buzzed angrily and Bao-Dur swore. "The console's been overloaded remotely. I can't slice the door control."

"It wouldn't do you any good to try," Riiken said glumly. "The blast door is part of the security lockdown. In the event of attack, the inner palace-the throne room and the royal living quarters-is sealed tight. There are two security control rooms in the outer palace, one each in the North and South Wing. They both must send a command to open the door from the outside." He jerked his head to indicate another hallway crossing the one they were in. "The Paladins must still be holding one of the control rooms. If the separatists had both, they could shut down the force field and get at the Queen."

Meetra nodded. "And if the Paladins had control, they'd let us in to get at Tobin. We should take the pressure off them first, then push to the PDF control room." She closed her eyes and concentrated. "North. There's still fighting that way."

Meetra and Bao-Dur led the way into the Palace North Wing. Riiken's troops came next, with Kreia bringing up the rear. They took out a small rearguard, then came up on a separatist strongpoint in a large room off the main hallway. A squad of troopers laid heavy fire on the door, trying to keep the royalists out. Riiken took a look inside, then backed off.

"It's the Palace museum!" he yelled over the sound of blaster fire. "The displays are full of relics from the royal family. They're cleaning it out!"

"General Vaklu cannot be allowed to recover those artifacts," Kreia said urgently. "He has Sith allies, and the Onderon nobility descend from the dark lord Freedon Nadd. The collection may well be dangerous, in the wrong hands."

Meetra nodded. "I'll follow you in."

Kreia swept around the corner, deflecting blaster fire. She advanced on the PDF troopers as Meetra joined the battle. The separatists put up a hard fight, but they couldn't stand against Jedi. The displays were half-empty; the soldiers had been loading the relics onto cargo floaters. Kreia examined them briefly, then nodded to herself. "We cannot leave this place unguarded. I will hold this room until the Palace is secure. Exile, you must keep going. Be cautious, but move quickly."

"Agreed." Meetra took a deep breath. "Captain, let's move."

Riiken frowned. "Don't you need me to leave some men here?"

Meetra, Kreia, and Bao-Dur all laughed; Meetra shook her head. "Against anything which could defeat her, your men would make no difference."

It was absolute chaos: the fighting was room-to-room with royalist and separatist soldiers blazing away at each other in small, furious firefights. Meetra ground her way forward, gathering more and more of the isolated Paladins to help her break through. She had saved eleven troops by the time she assaulted the PDF main force from behind. There were around a hundred men trying to take the last barricade to the security room. The defenders were down to less than a squad, making a last stand at the security room door. Vaklu's men knew there were royalists behind them, and made a frantic push to overrun the room before they arrived. Meetra and Bao-Dur tore into them, followed by Riiken and his troopers. When the last separatist fell, there were only three men still holding the door.

"Good timing, Jedi." One of the defenders smiled tiredly. "Master Kavar said help was coming, but he didn't say who, or how long. We couldn't have held another minute." He saluted. "I'm Captain Kadron, of the Paladins. Kavar is waiting inside; he's coordinating what is left of our defense."

Meetra waved Bao-Dur and Riiken to follow her in; they found Kavar at a console, looking over a floor plan. He glanced up and sighed with relief. "I don't know how you made it in time, but well done. We got split off from Talia early in the fighting, once we were driven back from the throne room entrance. I've lost communications with the outside-what's the situation?"

"Vaklu hasn't breached the Inner Palace yet," Meetra replied. "The Navy is counterattacking the Gatehouse now. I left a small force to hold the turret tower and checkpoint, and came in to break the siege." She frowned. "What is that… _thing_ Vaklu is using to batter in the doors?"

"A drexl," said Kadron, coming in. "A larva, about a year old, still small enough to fit through the outer gate. Vaklu's Sith allies have a force of war beasts, either tamed in the jungle outside the wall, or brought from Dxun. They did a lot of damage early in the battle, before we could bring them down." He glanced at Meetra. "You fought right through their flank on the Sky Ramp? Then you're the woman for the job. We need to get to the South Wing security room before that flaming drexl breaks through the inner door. I don't know what's in your way; our security feeds and comms are being limited from the other control room. Normally, we could override, but there's an expert slicer over there who's been hampering our every move. You need to break through all the way to the control room, and you need to do it fast."

Meetra nodded grimly. "Captain Riiken, pick eleven troopers, plus you. Make sure we bring the four Lancer repeating carbines and as many grenades as your people can carry. Bao-Dur and I will lead the way. I want three four-man fire teams. Your team carries two repeaters; they'll lay suppression as we advance down the hallway. The other two teams will clear the side rooms, so we're not flanked. Gear up-we move in two minutes."

* * *

The hallways were eerily quiet all the way back to the main entrance. Meetra gave Kreia a nod as they passed. The outer door to the throne room was still sealed; they could hear the drexl pounding and roaring as the force field shocked it. Riiken waved a halt just short of the south hallway.

The trooper walking point leaned out from the corner, then pulled her head back before it got blown off by a sudden burst of blaster fire. "Hasty barricade, twenty or so. More further in, couldn't see what." She brought her repeater to the ready position. "On your order, General."

Meetra stacked up at the corner with Bao-Dur behind her. She gestured to Riiken and his suppression team. The captain nodded. The Jedi dashed out into the hall. The PDF opened fire immediately. Meetra and Bao-Dur blocked the fire, covering Riiken and his team as they crossed the hallway. On each side, a pair of repeater gunners popped out to return fire, one standing and one kneeling. The hail of fire forced the separatists at the barricade to hunker down. Riiken's soldiers threw grenades, then the Jedi rushed the PDF position. Meetra vaulted over the barricade and kept going, moving at a fast walk with Bao-Dur on her right. Riiken's fire-support team was two repeaters and two rifles. They advanced down the center of the corridor, between and behind the Jedi. The repeater gunners fired alternately to keep up a constant barrage while Riiken and the other rifleman picked off targets of opportunity. Meetra passed a door on the left and ignored it completely. One of the two clearing teams stopped and stacked up. The leader opened the door and tossed in a flash grenade. The four troopers swept in after the blast, moving with precise, lethal coordination. Meetra heard a burst of blaster fire, then silence. The team emerged after a minute or so, jogging to catch up with the vanguard. The second barricade was tougher, but Meetra blasted a push down the hallway and rushed the PDF before they could recover. She was moving on when she felt something wrong and shouted for everyone to duck. There was a snapping sound and a section of wall exploded, sending fragments of stone and plasteel ripping through the air.

"Overloaded power coupling." Riiken spat. "More interference from Vaklu's slicer."

Then they passed the last side door, and the clearing teams joined Riiken; the entire squad was supporting the Jedi now. Their fire was too heavy for the separatists to have any hope of holding the last barricade. They would have routed, but there was nowhere to run. The PDF did the insane, logical thing: they rushed the royalists, in the hope of breaking through and fleeing the Palace. None made it past Meetra and Bao-Dur. That left the small PDF force holding the control room itself, and a quartet of battle droids controlled by the slicer. One separatist officer actually drew a sword and charged Meetra; she recognized Major Wilcapp before she cut him down. The door slammed shut and sealed, but Meetra burned the lock and Bao-Dur pulled it open to reveal the slicer.

Kiph turned away from the console, slowly, hands where Meetra could see them. "Ah, the Jedi arrives. I am counting on the vaunted Jedi compassion and regard for all life forms."

Meetra was opening her mouth for an appropriate retort, but Riiken beat her to it. "You dirty schutta! Tell me why I shouldn't blast you right now!"

"I have broken no laws," Kiph replied hastily. "I was hired by Colonel Tobin as a civilian contractor, to do advanced security work for the Onderonian military. My task was to break the cipher on unknown transmissions being made from the Market District. The Lancer Guards Battalion has the mandate of investigating spies. Sending sensitive information off-world is a crime on Onderon, even if it's the Queen's policy advisor doing the leaking. However, information on PDF intelligence operations is heavily compartmentalized. I didn't know _who_ was spying, just that someone was, and I was paid to uncover their identity."

"Uh-huh." Meetra arched her eyebrows. "And conspiring to assassinate a military officer? Framing Dhagon Ghent for murder?"

Kiph raised his hands. "I did not have any part in the murder of Captain Sullio. I live near that cantina, and drink there often-my presence the night of the murder was a coincidence. I never managed to break the code, and so I was not aware that Ghent and Sullio had any connection to the intelligence game being played. I told Captain Riiken what I saw that night, and I spoke truly. I was shocked when you told me that Dhagon was likely innocent. I did what I could to help you free him."

Riiken's lip curled, but Meetra shook her head. "As far as I can tell, Captain, he's telling the truth, hard as that is to believe. I'd suggest detaining him until this is over, and you can sort this out."

"Right." Riiken got on the console and worked for a few moments. "The outer door is open! Kavar and Kadron are heading for the throne room; we need to do the same."

Meetra and Bao-Dur sprinted flat out, leaving the troopers far behind. They reached the throne room entrance just in time to see Vaklu and a large group of soldiers rushing into the throne room. The drexl larva was a three-meter-tall muscular biped with bright green skin, just beginning to turn purple in places. It had two jet-black horns, spikes down its back, and sharp claws. Behind it stood its red-armored Sith handler, and Colonel Tobin, carrying a large repeater. He opened fire and the drexl stomped forward. Bao-Dur moved to take on the beast, leaving Meetra to try and get past Tobin. She couldn't advance, the fire was so heavy she could barely keep up with the incoming bolts. The drexl slashed at Bao-Dur, who dodged aside. He slashed at the creature, but his saber didn't penetrate its hide. The beast snapped at him, then stomped to throw the Zabrak off-balance. Bao-Dur hit the floor, rolled, and threw his saber, cutting the beast handler in half. Freed from any control, the drexl roared and began swinging wildly. Tobin tried to run, but the beast caught him with a backhand that sent him flying across the room. Tobin hit the wall with a loud _crack_ and fell to the floor, unmoving.

The now-wild drexl was still blocking the way to the throne room. Bao-Dur went for its eyes with his saber. The drexl spun and whipped its tail at the Zabrak's legs. Bao-Dur jumped over, but lost the chance to strike at the eyes. He settled for a hard punch from his repulsor fist. The monster lashed out, but Bao-Dur blocked with his arm again. Meetra reached out with the Force and grabbed the beast. She lifted it off the ground, spun it upside down, and slammed it down over and over. The drexl tore free and slashed, knocking Meetra down. It lifted its clawed foot to crush her, but Bao-Dur crashed into its other leg and smashed it to the ground. The big Zabrak grabbed the beast's horns and wrenched, snapping its neck. Meetra was up and moving and beckoning for her student to follow. And then they were through the door and attacking the separatists, who turned and laid down heavy fire.

Meetra had made a bad mistake.

She'd forgotten that the troopers with Vaklu would be Tobin's very best Lancers, and that even though there were fewer than fifty, _each and every one_ was carrying a repeating carbine. Only a dozen turned to engage the Jedi, but that was enough to pin them down. The rest advanced on the last group of Paladins, who were making a stand on the raised platform where the throne was located. Queen Talia was using the throne for cover, firing a blaster pistol with steely resolve on her face. The Paladins were falling one by one under the tremendous fire from the separatists. Vaklu was in the center, pistol in his left hand and a sword in his right. And then the Queen moved. She grabbed a double-bladed sword from where it lay beside the throne and leaped down at Vaklu. He parried her slash in time, but then they were in a whirling, close-in fight. Vaklu's men couldn't fire without the risk of hitting their leader. Talia was clearly the better duelist, but if she killed Vaklu, the Lancers would have a clear shot. They'd kill her, and the civil war would end in a draw with the throne empty. Talia's best option was to stall for time. Meetra saw all this, but it didn't mean anything unless she could get in there and help the Queen. The repeater fire wasn't letting up at all. The stalemate continued for what seemed like forever, then Talia began gain the upper hand. Vaklu ordered his men to fire, even though he was still in the way. Meetra braced herself for a charge, and then the first blast went off. Kavar and the royalists were pouring through the door behind Meetra, throwing concussion grenades. The blasts disrupted the Lancers long enough for Meetra to make her move. She tore through the door with Kavar and Bao-Dur behind her, and two squads of troopers following.

* * *

Talia and Vaklu circled each other, slashing and feinting. Vaklu smiled cruelly. "Your time is at an end, Talia. Your people have abandoned you. And now your life is forfeit."

"You would destroy everything just for your ambition, Vaklu." Talia faked low, then snapped her back blade at Vaklu's eyes. "The Republic, Iziz… everything!"

Vaklu parried the Queen's high slash, then countered with a thrust at her midsection. "That is a gross oversimplification, Talia. Change is a painful process. A price must be paid. But Onderon will have a new destiny, one larger than you can imagine."

Talia sidestepped his thrust and slammed the haft of her double-blade into his ribs. She chuckled. "You're getting careless, Vaklu. One more mistake, and you're the one who will pay the price."

"Damn you," Vaklu snarled. "Your skill with the blade won't save you from my men. Goodbye, Talia. Fire!"

Talia was a better duelist than Vaklu, but she had less experience in battle. So when the grenades went off, Talia startled and spun to look, but Vaklu did not. He took advantage of her distraction to slash for her throat. The strike would have finished her, but his attack was stopped cold by a blue saber blade.

Meetra smiled. "Did I miss anything? So you must be General Vaklu." She blurred to the side and brought her sabers around. Vaklu blocked the blades, but not the kick.

He staggered backwards. "Kill her and the Queen, men. Quickly! They must not be allowed to live."

Bao-Dur landed among the Lancers with his customary shockwave. He and Meetra began tearing into the last of the separatists. Kavar sprinted into the fight, shoved Talia back with a weak push, and placed himself between her and Vaklu's men. The General screamed in frustration and rushed Meetra directly. She blasted him with the Force, sending Vaklu tumbling across the floor. Bao-Dur finished off the last Lancer, and then, just like that, it was over.

Vaklu pulled himself to his feet, holding his side and grimacing in pain. "You've won this battle, Talia. But your reign won't be an easy one. The Republic is a sinking ship. And you're too attached to it." He smiled slowly. "So what will it be, your Majesty? Send me to your best detention cell. I will be free within the week. And vengeance will be mine!"

Talia raised her eyebrows. "Are you so sure of my decision, Vaklu? As monarch I decree you are guilty of treason. The punishment is death. To be carried out immediately. Captain Kadron."

The royalist officer began to raise his carbine, but Meetra held up a hand to stop him. "Wait. Save him for trial."

"But he will rise again. He has too many supporters." The Queen shook her head. "I do appreciate your counsel, but he must be killed."

"Oh, I agree with that." Meetra shot Vaklu a venomous look. "If you don't execute him, the Republic will. But ask yourself, why did he taunt you just now? The likely outcome was that you'd order him executed on the spot. Yes, he doesn't want the humiliation of a cell and trial, but there's more than that." Meetra crossed her arms. "Vaklu has supporters, your Majesty, and he is thinking of them. There is still a faction of the nobility who agree with him, who want Onderon to rule the galaxy. Right now, most of the Onderonian people don't know that Vaklu allied with the Sith, or that he had a PDF captain murdered a week before he declared you were a traitor. How would they react to that information? If have Vaklu shot without trial, in violation of your own laws, they might believe the charges are false, that you fabricated the evidence. Before you kill him, you must undo his lies and propaganda. A trial, a full public trial, will discredit him and his allies."

Talia nodded. "You have convinced me, Jedi." She drew herself up regally. "You will stand trial, Vaklu. Take him away." Four soldiers escorted the general out of the throne room; Talia turned back to Meetra. "What is done, is done. I don't think the service you have given us can ever be repaid. I must go with Captain Kadron, the fighting must be stopped. But the crisis is over, thanks to you and Master Kavar. I believe he'd like to speak with you. If you'll excuse me." She turned and left with the captain.

And then Meetra was standing with Kavar, who smiled gently. "The Force works in mysterious ways, it seems. There are times I'm not convinced it doesn't have a sense of humor. We spent all this time looking for you, and you came to us. I thought you might return to Onderon. Looks like just in time." He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. "The difficulties you surmounted to get here. You must have many questions. You deserve answers."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "You were looking for me?"

Kavar nodded. "I told the other Masters that our only chance to figure out what was happening to us was to find you-and try to understand what happened to you. I don't know how much you know, but this threat that's striking at the Jedi… it's attacking us through the Force. Vrook didn't believe me. But he was willing to travel to Dantooine, if only to help the settlers there… and perhaps to protect what was left of the Jedi Enclave. Whatever the reason, I thought us all dropping out of sight might make the enemy more bold-but then you happened. You came back, and you became a new target for whoever was attacking us-along with your… apprentices."

Meetra nodded to herself. "I need to know why you cast me out of the Order."

"There was nothing else we could do," Kavar said firmly. "You defied the Council. You followed Revan to war. I know why you did it, but in so doing, much more harm was done." He held up a hand. "But you must understand-the exile was never the punishment you thought it to be. We could not have made you do such a thing, in any event. I think you knew, inside, what you needed to do in order to heal."

Meetra rubbed her chin. "The Force only came back to me about eight months ago, but you are right-walking alone gave me time to reflect, to make peace with what happened."

Kavar shook his head sadly. "All those lives during the Mandalorian Wars-and all those you served beside. Too much death leaves echoes in the Force; it is the price for having such connections. I suspect that is why you chose to accept the Council's judgment, to wander beyond the Rim. And why you traveled with no one, and did not stay in any place too long." He almost smiled. "I have thought of you since your trial, and there are times when I wonder if being connected to the Force is always the gift it is believed to be."

"So, what happens now, Master?" Meetra asked quietly.

"I'm going to Dantooine," Kavar replied. "The Jedi Council vowed to assemble again when the Sith revealed themselves. I understand Vrook is already there-I heard about your little skirmish. And Lonna…" He broke off and took a moment to gather himself. "I know she's gone-I felt it. That leaves Zez-Kai. You need to pick him up and get him back to the Enclave. I'll meet you there. May the Force be with you." He turned and left the hall.

Meetra waited about half an hour. Kreia joined her, followed shortly by Mandalore and the droids. Queen Talia returned, escorted formally by Captain Kadron and four troopers. She strode down the center of the throne room, eyes straight ahead, totally ignoring the battle damage. The Queen climbed the steps of the dais and sat on the throne, her posture absolutely perfect. "General Meetra Surik. Onderon owes both you and Master Kavar a debt that can never truly be repaid. Battles still wage in our streets, but by morning the conflict should be over." She looked over at the large man in armor. "Mandalore, I understand that you and your warriors were instrumental in this victory, both here and on Dxun. You have my thanks."

"It was an, uh… thank you, your Majesty." Mandalore shifted uneasily. "I don't really know what to say."

Talia nodded. "Neither do I. Our peoples do not have a happy history, and the distrust runs deep. It will be our job to change that." She took a breath. "But that is a problem for the future. This battle is at an end, but the war is not. The Sith have risen again, and Onderon will stand with the Jedi against them." Talia hit a button on her throne. "Admiral Daynar, please."

A hidden holoprojector created an image of a short woman, wearing a Republic-pattern naval uniform in Onderonian colors. She saluted. "Your Majesty, I am glad you're safe."

A faint smile crossed the Queen's face. "I'm pretty glad of that myself." She switched gears, smoothly returning to the role of strong, calm leader. "What is left of our forces?"

"Fleet losses were heavy, I'm sorry to say," Daynar replied. "Starting with the heavies: four cruisers have been completely destroyed. The _Gobee_ may be salvaged, but she'll be in spacedock for months at least. The _Oron Kira_ has moderate damage to her engine systems; she can fight, but she can't jump to hyperspace. The _Arca Jeth_ sustained minor damage and is still fully operational. There are three PDF destroyers left; they were all grounded for maintenance and took no part in the fighting; they can be made ready to launch in a week or so." The admiral sighed. "The fighter force took heavy losses. Before the coup attempt, the combined Navy-PDF force was two active squadrons of Chelas, nineteen of Aureks, and thirty-two of Stingers. I have seven Chelas and twenty Aureks ready for combat. There are also eight squadrons of Stingers, but I don't have pilots to fly them until we sort out who was in on the conspiracy and who was duped. In a day or two I can ready several more squadrons from training units. About eight hundred of my naval infantry are fit to fight."

Kadron cleared his throat. "Ground forces: roughly twelve thousand men confirmed loyal. All of our armor is fighting in the streets, or still in separatist hands. There are thousands of holdouts in turret towers and noble estates across the city. Some are still fighting, others are standing down. Don't know who's who yet. The Gatehouse is under royalist control, along with the other major military facilities."

"Very well." The Queen folded her arms while she thought. "We will ready a force to support General Surik and the Republic when they face the Sith. Admiral Daynar, have the _Arca Jeth_ prepare to get underway. Have her refueled and loaded with as much firepower as you can fit aboard. Captain Riiken, gather a company of volunteers. Get aboard the _Jeth_ and stand ready." She turned back to Meetra. "A shuttle is waiting to take you to Dxun. My soldiers will be waiting for your call."

Meetra bobbed her head. "Thank you, your Majesty." She headed out of the throne room with Mandalore and the rest following.

* * *

 **A/N: General Surik is _back_. Meetra is now fully the Jedi she was in her prime during the Wars, and we're ready to face the Sith.**


	40. Jedi Enclave

**Disclaimer: Knights of the Old Republic was created by Lucasarts and BioWare; the sequel was developed by Obsidian Entertainment.**

* * *

The flight back to Dxun was only a few hours, but it felt like years, and Meetra's heart was in her mouth the whole way. The Mandalorian camp looked very different: the camouflage netting had been taken off the ships, and the Q-carriers were docked to the troopship in readiness for takeoff. The Onderonian shuttle flared to a landing between the _Ebon Hawk_ and the big transport. Meetra was out the shuttle's hatch before the engines had even shut down.

Mical was waiting for her; he held up his hands. "You can relax, Master. We all made it."

Meetra didn't just sigh, she _deflated_ , nearly collapsed with relief. "How bad?"

"Quite bad, actually," Mical said. "The Sith were trying some ritual in the Tomb of Freedon Nadd. We stopped it, but there were Sith Masters in there, and it was a very close thing. We're all wounded to some extent. I have a sprained wrist along with cuts and bruises, which I was able to treat myself. Visas has a bruised windpipe. I stopped the swelling and gave her something for the pain; she's healing nicely. Mira took a hard blow to the side: four broken ribs and contusions to her right kidney. Kolto wrap and rest. Atton got thrown around and slammed into some walls; that left him with a fractured left tibia, broken nose, and some bad cuts. Atton and Mira both kept fighting after sustaining those injuries. Handmaiden had the worst of it; she was forced to take on two Masters at once. She's got a concussion, cracked skull, broken jaw, and broken left shoulder. Atton and Handmaiden both needed time in a kolto tank, and they're now resting in their bunks. I had to sedate them; they kept trying to get out of bed to see each other."

Meetra laughed, then pulled Mical in for a hug. They held each other for what seemed like a long time. "Well done, Mical. You've earned a rest yourself. I need to speak with Mandalore, then we'll be on our way."

Mical, Bao-Dur, T3, and HK boarded the _Hawk_. Mandalore waited for Meetra at the bottom of the ramp. "I will remain here. I need to finish preparations for battle, and the Queen may wish to speak with me. I intend to leave a major force here to secure this base and the Tomb of Freedon Nadd, as well as aid the Onderonians if they need it. This ship will carry a cohort, about five hundred warriors. Do you have orders once we're ready to launch?"

Meetra folded her arms. "I'm headed to Nar Shaddaa. In addition to giving Master Zez-Kai a ride back to Dantooine, I hope to recruit some Republic veterans to join the fight. They are good troops, but they have no transportation and minimal equipment."

Mandalore nodded. "I can provide weapons and armor, and there's room aboard for another company or so."

"Thank you," Meetra said. She smiled wickedly. "I'll tell Major Nevran you're coming."

" _Derrick Nevran?!_ " Mandalore was stunned into silence for a moment, then chuckled. "I feel sorry for the Sith."

* * *

The Refugee Sector was a changed place. The Serroco veterans had removed the barrier, and the refugees had spread out across the entire terminal area. Refugees had taken over the cargo yard office-what had once been Saquesh's headquarters-and converted it into a civic center. Hussef had set up a suite of offices for himself, Nevran, and a council of refugee leaders. Several of Nevran's veterans had been medics, and they were operating a hospital out of the lower floors. The veterans' barracks was also housed there, and they patrolled the quad, keeping Vogga's thugs out. The quad was brighter, cleaner, and felt happier by far than when Meetra had left. Atton brought the _Ebon Hawk_ to a landing on the rooftop pad of the office building. Hussef and Nevran were waiting at the edge of the pad. So was Master Zez-Kai Ell.

Meetra beamed as she descended the ramp. "What brings you here, Master?"

"I thought _you_ did," said Hussef. "Master Zez-Kai appeared a day after you took out Goto. He's been helping me to care for the refugees. He's let the two of us know, privately, that he was a Jedi in hiding. You didn't send him?"

"No, but I'm glad he's here," Meetra replied. She bowed to Zez-Kai. "Thank you for helping them, Master."

The Master smiled and returned the bow. "Thank _you_ , Meetra, for giving me the strength to be a Jedi again. I feel a fulfilment that has been missing for a dozen years." He angled his head. "Is it time to return?"

Meetra nodded. "The Council is gathering on Dantooine. I am to transport you there."

"Then I will gather my things." Zez-Kai turned to Hussef. "Forgive me, Mayor. I must take my leave." He headed into the turbolift and the doors slid shut.

"Major, I need your help." Meetra walked up to Nevran. "I want you to assemble a company of your best men, but make them understand that they don't owe me anything. I will not lie to you, it is likely to be the hardest mission of your lives."

Nevran grinned. "Company? General, I'll get you a whole damned battalion! What's the mission?"

Meetra shook her head. "I only have transport for a couple of hundred, and I'm not comfortable with you taking so many troopers away from defending the refugees. The mission is fighting the Sith again, but that isn't why it will be hard." She took a deep breath. "My allies-your transport-are Mandalorians."

"Mandalorians." Nevran's mouth worked silently for a moment. He began pacing the pad. "You want my men to go into battle alongside Mandalorians. We spent five years fighting them, and now we're allies." He came to a stop with his back to Meetra. "Are you certain you can trust them?"

"The new Mandalore helped me when my ship was shot down a month ago," Meetra replied. "He and his warriors just fought to stop a Sith-backed coup on Onderon. Troops from Iziz are also joining my forces, and Mandalore will be opening peace talks with Queen Talia once the current crisis is over." She nodded. "Yes, I trust him."

Nevran took a long pull on his hip flask. "I will trust your judgment, General." He turned to face her, rubbing his chin as he thought. "Many of my troopers won't like it, but I can make them understand. I can have a full company ready in two standard days. We will stand by for orders."

Meetra smiled. "Thank you, Major, and give my thanks to your men. The Mandalorian transport will be here in a few days; they will be carrying extra gear if you need it."

"I'll pass the word." The old soldier snapped to attention like he was still a young cadet on the parade ground and saluted crisply. "Good luck, General. I'll see you on the battlefield."

* * *

Zez-Kai Ell came aboard a couple of hours later. He took the bunk Mandalore had vacated, and the _Hawk_ lifted off. For the second time, Atton set a course from Nar Shaddaa to Dantooine, and they jumped to hyperspace.

It felt like years since they had left Dantooine, but only a little over a fortnight had passed. Atton landed the _Hawk_ on the pad at Khoonda; Dillan ran up as soon as the ramp was down. "Welcome back, Jedi. The Administrator wishes to speak with you, if you have the time."

Zez-Kai told Meetra to give the Council until dawn to deliberate and left for the Enclave. Meetra followed Dillan, looking to and fro. The battle damage had long since been repaired, and Khoonda was bustling. A new building was up, and many people were going in and out.

"It's the new general store," Dillan explained. "Aratech sent an assayer to buy the crystals Daraala's people are mining. It's a rich vein, and there's a strong market for optical gems. More miners are coming in, working the whole mountain range. The miners need food, and so the farms are expanding too, new ones starting up as far away as Darjani. The Matales just sent word that they're hiring a dozen new hands, and that's just one place! Dantooine is booming, Jedi, and it's all thanks to you." Dillan's eyes were moist. "You saved us. I've said it before, but you saved us all."

Meetra smiled. "That's our purpose. I was happy to help."

Dillan stopped at the door to Adare's office. "She's inside waiting for you. I have an errand to run, but if you're going to be here for any length of time, there's plenty of folks who'd like to buy your people a drink." She bobbed her head, then turned to leave.

Meetra knocked and entered. The Administrator was behind her desk, speaking with Zherron. She rose and spread her arms in greeting. "Good afternoon, Jedi Surik, and welcome home. I'm sure Dillan has already told you of Khoonda's newfound good fortune."

"She has indeed," Meetra replied. "I'm glad you're doing so well."

Adare smiled craftily. "But she _didn't_ tell you about my little surprise. I ordered part of the new revenues we're raising to help rebuild the Enclave. That supplied the capital, and I had dozens of volunteers to supply the labor. We've been working for months, starting back when you were out training. The main structure of the Enclave is already rebuilt. It will take time to complete the restoration, but we're on track to finish by the first anniversary of the battle against Azkul."

Meetra took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. "Thank you, Administrator. My students and I will never forget this generosity."

"You may say we don't owe you all you like, Jedi. We know better." A worried look crossed the Administrator's face. "Now for the bad news. Something is up with Vrook. Ever since the battle, he's been moody, withdrawn… I'm not sure how he feels about you, or the restoration."

"Well, I'm pretty sure how he feels about me." Meetra shrugged. "I need to speak with the Council. After that, I don't know what will happen."

"I can tell you this much." Adare set her jaw. "Khoonda stands with you. Zherron has gathered a militia force to join you in battle when the time comes. It's only a platoon, but we will not let you face the Sith without us."

Meetra nodded. "Thank you for your support. I hope I will not need it."

"It's time the Order returned home. The Enclave has stood empty too long." Adare stood and shook hands. "Until we meet again, Jedi. May the Force be with you."

The entire crew was waiting in the main hold when Meetra walked in. "It's time. I'm going to meet the Council. You are all _staying here_. I don't know what they will choose to do, or what will happen next. Whatever comes, you are not to interfere. I need to do this on my own." One by one, Meetra's students nodded. They wished her well, then she set off on foot.

* * *

Meetra forced herself not to rush, and used the walk to meditate. An hour passed, then another, and she was alone with the sound of the wind in the grass. It was late afternoon when Meetra came over the rise and saw the Enclave. The exterior damage had been repaired, and the craters filled in. The building was scarred, but still standing. The door to the upper level was open, waiting for her. Meetra walked in and up the ramp. A G-wing shuttle sat on the pad; Meetra recognized the vessel as Vrook's courier. She walked past, and entered the Enclave courtyard and headed for the council chamber.

As she drew near, Meetra heard Vrook's voice. "It will not be as it was."

"But perhaps that is for the best," Zez-Kai replied. The three Masters were standing together in the Council chamber, actually a side courtyard open to the sky above. They had been examining the worn stones, but turned to face Meetra when she drew near.

Kavar nodded in greeting. "We were wondering when you would arrive. This moment has taken some time to reach us, and I imagine you have many questions."

"Or perhaps you have come for revenge," Vrook growled.

Meetra shook her head. "I bear you no ill will. You were doing what you thought was for the best, just as I was." She sighed. "So tell me. How did this happen? Why were you all in hiding?"

Vrook frowned. "I see you have failed to grasp the nature of the enemy we face. Where Jedi gather, Jedi die."

"But not just Jedi," Zez-Kai added. "All things touched by the Force."

Kavar shook his head sadly. "The last Jedi Conclave was on Katarr, a Miraluka colony. And all of Katarr was destroyed, all of the Jedi killed…"

"Including Master Zhar. Master Vandar." Vrook lowered his head.

"A Jedi doesn't care if he dies," Kavar said. "Everyone does, but when we fight, when we sacrifice ourselves, it is for others, for the greater good."

"But our presence must not endanger others," Zez-Kai emphasized. "And as long as we were visible targets, we were a threat to everything around us."

Meetra frowned. "You were unable to track this threat?"

"We have been trying," Vrook replied. "For years, without success. Whatever disturbance in the Force that would cause death on such a scale also clouds it from our sight."

Zez-Kai interlaced his fingers, palms up. "It is like a scream in the Force, and finding its source is difficult. It has cast many echoes."

"So we sought out places touched by the Force, by such events," Vrook explained.

Kavar nodded. "We went to Dantooine, to Telos… to Dxun."

"And some of us just left," Zez-Kai sighed.

"We thought the enemy might show themselves," said Vrook. "They were Sith, that much was certain. But where they were striking from, we did not know."

Meetra began pacing. "But now we know more. We have threads to follow-the coup plot on Onderon, my Miraluka apprentice… we can locate the Sith, and move against them."

Vrook held up a finger. "No. We will do as we have done-we will wait. There is nothing else we can do."

"But the enemy has revealed itself," Meetra argued. "We can fight back."

"No, the true threat has yet to show itself," Vrook said dismissively. "It is waiting for something-us, perhaps, to enter the war. We have seen their soldiers, the remnants of their fleet, but those are symptoms of a disease. It is more bait to attempt to draw us out."

"The actual battle is being fought through the Force, not with weapons of war." Kavar shook his head. "It isn't about the Republic anymore. The attack on Onderon… something was attempting to use the planet itself, to feed on it, to draw on the power there. You prevented it, but it was a stalling measure. The next time will be critical."

Meetra crossed her arms. "You are all hesitating, like you did in the Mandalorian Wars! 'Not about the Republic anymore?' Do you hear yourselves? Our duty has _always_ been to the Republic, to protect the galaxy and its people."

Vrook sighed heavily. "If Jedi gather, if we wage war against these… shadows now, then Jedi will die, and we will die for nothing. Whatever this thing is, it must be fought by those strong in the Force-it cannot be fought in any other way. It knows this, and that is why it is killing us. If we die, then it will win, no matter what fleet or weapons are brought against it."

"If none but Jedi can fight this Sith threat, then we have no choice but to move now." Meetra spread her hands. "There are only a handful of Jedi left in the galaxy. The Sith will track us down eventually-they found me on Dxun, despite the disturbances in that system. If we go back into hiding, we will be picked off one by one until there is none left to stand against this threat-and then the Sith will rule the galaxy." She took a breath. "I have wandered the galaxy for ten years-plenty of opportunity to reflect on my decisions. What I wondered early on was, why did the Council deliberate so long, so much longer than for the Beast Wars and the Krath?" Meetra pursed her lips. "Later on, once I had led others to war, I knew the answer. The burden of responsibility is tiring, and the Masters were exhausted. I believe that was especially true of Grand Master Nomi-and beyond that, she had been worn down by Ulic's death, and the rift between herself and her daughter. You hesitate, wait as long as you can, hope that you won't be forced to make the choice at all. But the choice must be made. If I had it to do over again, I would still have followed Revan to war, but I would have worked harder to convince you to join us. The galaxy needed us to fight. We needed the Masters' wisdom to keep us from going too far, like Ulic did-like I did."

"Enough," snapped Vrook. "You _were_ rash, and you _are_ rash-and your 'going too far' gave rise to the threat we face now!"

"Then tell me." Meetra looked Kavar straight in the eye. "Many years have passed, and I am before you again. It is time you told me everything."

"You already know the answer," Vrook said. "You've noticed it in those who travel with you."

Meetra raised her eyebrows. "My companions? What about them?"

Zez-Kai folded his arms. "Have you noticed that when you act, others follow?"

Kavar took a breath. "Those that travel with you…"

"…they follow you, without question," Zez-Kai said. "Without hesitation."

"Against their instincts," continued Vrook, "and sometimes against their sense."

"It is because you are a leader," Kavar said. "But that still fails to grasp the meaning of what I am trying to tell you."

Meetra nodded. "Take your time-I'm listening."

Vrook rubbed his bald head. "It is not an easy thing to explain… surely you are familiar with Force bonds. It is the bond that develops between apprentice and Master, when one truly understands another. It is developed over time, through understanding of each other. Yet you do it so easily, and we do not know why."

Kavar put his hands on his hips. "You make connections through the Force, and it resonates with those who travel with you. The resonance is even greater when they, too, are Force Sensitive."

"Your actions affect others more than you know," said Zez-Kai. "You draw others to you, especially those strong in the Force."

"When you suffer, their spirit echoes it," Kavar said quietly. "And when they are in pain, their pain becomes yours."

Meetra blinked. _They're describing my bond with Kreia, but I'm not so closely linked with the others._ "How did this happen?"

Kavar shrugged. "We do not know. But it is not the first time you've felt the weight of so many lives."

"And that is why the destruction of the Mandalorian Wars echo within you still," Zez-Kai said.

Meetra's eyes popped wide. "So all those deaths at Malachor…?"

Vrook nodded. "We did not cut you off from the Force. You were merely deafened to it, because of that last battle of the Mandalorian Wars."

"The screams of countless thousands," Zez-Kai said softly, "Jedi and Mandalorians, crushed by the planet's gravity, annihilated."

"Their lives still scream across the surface of that dead planet-and within you," Kavar said. "To hear the Force over such pain… it is not possible. It was too much for any Jedi to endure… and it is a wonder that you did not die there when thousands perished, all those that you had fought and struggled with. You cut yourself off, because you had to if you were to survive. You had hints of it on the war on Dxun. Malachor was just the final blow."

"You were deafened," said Vrook.

"You were broken," said Kavar.

"You were blinded," Zez-Kai finished.

"When you returned to us, we saw what had happened." Vrook regarded her sternly. "You carry all those deaths at Malachor within you, and it has left a hole, a hunger that cannot be filled."

Kavar nodded. "In you, we saw a wound in the Force."

"In you, we saw the end of the Force," said Zez-Kai.

"But… that makes no sense," Meetra said slowly. "If I were wounded as you describe, my connection could not have been healed. I can feel the Force again."

"Yes… you can feel the Force, but you cannot feel yourself," Vrook said. "You are a cipher, forming bonds, leeching the life of others, siphoning their will and dominating them. It is the teaching of these new Sith, to feed on others, on other Force Sensitives. They are symptomatic of the wound in the Force." He pointed. "You are a breach that must be closed. You transmit your pain, your suffering through the Force. Within you, we see something worse than merely the teachings of the Sith. What you carry may mean the death of the Force… and the death of the Jedi. Yes, you have power again. But it is not the strength of a Jedi you feel."

"He's right," said Zez-Kai; he sounded like a parent trying to make a child understand. "It's… all the death you've caused to get here. You feed on it, and you grow stronger. You're like Malachor… it's in you, it's what you are now. You must have noticed as you've fought across all these planets, killing hundreds-only to become more and more powerful. Why do you think that was?"

"But what's worse, is that bonding you have," said Kavar. "It hasn't gone away. It's gotten stronger, and the more attachments you form, the more you draw others to you."

"And that is why you are a threat to us all," Vrook said firmly.

"A threat?" Meetra asked.

"What if other Jedi went to war as you did, suffered the same events, and emerged as you did?" Vrook was almost glaring at her. "What if there was a crucible that trained such Jedi to consume and kill?"

"For you, Malachor was that crucible," said Zez-Kai.

"What's worse, is these Sith we face…" Kavar shook his head. "I fear that they have learned the lesson of Malachor all too well. It is what allows them to prey on Force users, to become stronger when Force Sensitives are near."

"Somehow, they have learned their hunger from you," Vrook growled. "And so you have brought about the end of the Jedi, and perhaps all knowledge of the Force. But it is of no consequence. Your ability to make such connections, such bonds, so easily are why you cannot remain. You are a threat to living creatures, and all who feel the Force."

"You will lead the Sith here," Zez-Kai said. "And that we cannot allow."

Vrook drew himself up. "Our judgment before remains, exile. You must leave… and you must leave without your tie to the Force. It is a punishment reserved for only a few-and only when necessary, but we have the power to cut you off from the Force, and it must be done."

Meetra took a deep, steadying breath, searching for the right words. What came next might well be the most important thing she would ever say. "I believe you are wrong. You understand the nature of my wound, but there is more you are missing. You don't know why I form bonds so easily, but I _do_. You see, I'm not the only one who forms Force bonds easily-it was the case with many of my friends during the Wars. We bond ourselves to those that we care for. It happens among all beings, but particularly among those strong in the Force." She faced her old friend and former mentor. "You have felt such connections yourself, Master Kavar. I remember your stories of the Exar Kun War: the kinship you felt with your men, how you often knew their thoughts without asking. The Jedi, too, have gone too far. We have withdrawn from the galaxy, and forgotten what a Jedi's duty is." Meetra addressed Zez-Kai next. "You know I speak the truth. You told me of the renewed purpose you felt when you came out of hiding to aid the refugees. You protected them, cared for them, and you also bonded with them, at some level."

Kavar and Zez-Kai's body language was changing, especially Zez-Kai. They were thinking about what she was saying, but Meetra could tell they weren't convinced yet. Vrook was still scowling. Meetra moistened her lips. "I admit that Force bonding _can_ be used to harm others, but that is true of any technique in the Force. I believe you are wrong about me, and wrong about what path to take from here. I reject your sentence-I will not willingly give up my connection to the Force. But I will not fight a Jedi. You were my teachers, my friends, my family; if you choose to sever me, I won't raise a hand to defend myself." _Apathy is death, but this isn't about me. This is_ their _moment of truth._ Meetra tossed her sabers aside and spread her hands. "So, it's up to you, Masters. Are you so certain you are right that you would impose your beliefs by force? Because that is not the Jedi Way that you taught me."

Kavar and Zez-Kai's posture shifted dramatically, and Meetra knew that she had won. Her shoulders drooped as she let out a sigh of relief. _It's over. I can come home._ She felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

Master Vrook extended his hand and caught Meetra in a massive grip. "Do not be afraid-you shall feel no pain, but this must be done. As long as you feel the Force, you are a danger to those around you."

The other two Masters began shouting for him to stop, but Vrook ignored them. Meetra gasped for breath as her entire body was squeezed, pinning her in place. Vrook moved his hands, manipulating the Force around and _inside_ Meetra. A pulse seemed to wash over her and she felt the wound. She tried to struggle away. Vrook was wrong-it _did_ hurt; the Force in her was burning. Meetra couldn't move or speak, but inside she was screaming and screaming and screaming…

"Enough!" Kreia strode into the chamber, blasting the Council back with a powerful wave. They hit the wall and Vrook's grip broke. Meetra fell on the spot, unable to move. Kreia moved to stand over Meetra. "Step away from her."

"Wha…" Vrook got up and tried to run at Kreia.

She blew him back again. "Step away! She has brought truth, and you condemn it? The arrogance!" The old woman pulled back her hood, glaring from one Jedi Master to the next. "You will not harm her. You will not harm her _ever_ again."

Kavar's eyes widened as he saw Kreia's face. "I thought you had died in the Mandalorian Wars…"

"Die? No," Kreia said contemptuously. "Became stronger, yes."

Vrook and the others were back on their feet; Vrook ignited his saber. "Is this your new Master, exile? If so, then you follow Revan's path. Her teachings will cause you to fall as surely as he did."

Zez-Kai was drew his double-blade. "We sought to lure the Sith out… and now they have come to us."

"As you would pass judgment on her, I have come to pass judgment on you all." There was iron in Kreia's voice. Kavar lit his sabers as she kept speaking. "Do you wish to feel the teachings born of the Mandalorian Wars? Of all wars, of all tragedies that scream across the galaxy? Let me show you-you, who have forever seen the galaxy through the Force." She raised her arms. "See it through the eyes of the exile."

And Meetra felt Kreia drawing on the powerful bond between them, and she knew what was coming. Kreia extended her right hand toward the Masters. The wound in Meetra, the wound in the Force that had been burning her, went suddenly cold. The chill was a terrible void, and it hungered to be filled. The Masters' presence in the Force, their very life energies, were pulled out of their bodies to Kreia, then through the bond and into Meetra. The Masters fell to the ground, skin pale in death.

Kreia shook her head. "How could you ever hope to know the threat you face, when you have never walked in the dark places of the galaxy-faced war and death on such a scale. If you had traveled far enough, rather than waiting for the echo to reach you, perhaps you would have seen it for what it was." She began walking around the chamber. "There is a place in the galaxy where the dark side of the Force runs strong. It is something of the Sith, but it was fueled by war. It corrupts all that walks on its surface, drowns them in the power of the dark side-it corrupts all life. And it feeds on death. Revan knew the power of such places… and the power in making them. They can be used to break the will of others, of Jedi, promising them power, and turning them to the dark side." Kreia completed a full circle and came to a stop next to Meetra. "Did you never wonder how Revan corrupted so many of the Jedi, so much of the Republic, so quickly? The Mandalorian Wars were a series of massacres that masked another war, a war of conversion. Culminating in a final atrocity that no Jedi could walk away from… save one. And that is what I sought to understand. How one could turn away from such power, give up the Force… and still live. But I see what happened now." She knelt down and whispered into Meetra's ear. "It is because you were afraid."

Meetra wanted to get up, wanted to weep, scream, ask Kreia why… but she couldn't move so much as her little finger. As the old woman stood back up, Meetra lost even the strength she needed to keep her eyes open. The last thing she saw was Kreia disappearing through the door.

* * *

The _Ebon Hawk_ sat on the pad at Khoonda. Mira was on sensor watch; the rest of the crew tried to keep themselves busy while they waited for Meetra to come back. Mical sipped a cup of coffee in the dormitory, trying to interest himself in one of his holobooks. Atton was teaching Handmaiden to play pazaak. Bao-Dur was doing minor maintenance; nothing was broken but it passed the time. After a couple of hours, it was dinner time. No one was particularly hungry, but it was something to do, to deal with the tension they all felt. They gathered in the main hold, sat down, and talked quietly as they ate.

Something was wrong, but no one knew exactly what right away. The conversation died down as everyone tried to figure out _why_ they felt uneasy about something. It was Visas who caught on first. "Someone's missing…"

Atton blinked. "Kreia. Where is Kreia?"

Mira left the room for a moment, then returned at a run. "She's not in the dormitory. I can't remember when I actually saw her last."

Bao-Dur whirled and checked a wall panel. "Ramp was opened two and a half hours ago. She's left the ship."

Mical's jaw dropped. "I know where she is."

"We have to go after her!" Handmaiden stood up and headed for the exit.

Atton blocked her way. "Master Meetra ordered us to stay here, no matter what."

Everyone cringed as they felt a gigantic blast of the dark side. Handmaiden started moving and Atton made to grab her. She caught him with a single lightning-fast punch and knocked him out. Before anyone else could act, she was down the ramp and heading for the Enclave at a full sprint. Mical reached the landing pad in time to see a cloud of dust receding in the distance. He swore and dashed back into the ship.

Handmaiden kept running, drawing on the Force for stamina. The Enclave was hours away at a walk, but she could chase down an iriaz. It wasn't too late, there was still time, there had to be… It was a little over ten minutes later when she turned into the Enclave courtyard.

Kreia was just standing there. "It is done-she is no more." Handmaiden stood frozen in shock for a moment, then she let out an awful cry of anguish. Kreia stepped forward. "Take me to Atris. She will have the strength to do what the Council cannot."

Handmaiden spun and kicked Kreia in the head; the old woman fell. Handmaiden lifted Kreia onto her shoulders and carried her into the shuttle on the pad. She took the pilot seat and lifted off, toggling the comm as she exited the atmosphere. "They're all dead, the Council killed her, and then Kreia, she…" Handmaiden broke down for a few moments. "I'm taking her back to Telos. Atton… I'm sorry." She pulled the lever and rocketed into hyperspace.

* * *

 **A/N: This scene was heartbreaking for me when I played the game. If you're paying attention, you suspect Kreia has an agenda, but this... I was steaming mad when I went after her.**


	41. Telos Academy, part one

**Disclaimer: KotOR II is back, remastered, and available on Steam.**

* * *

Meetra groaned and opened her eyes. She didn't know how long she'd been out. She felt a momentary disorientation, then saw the three bodies on the grass in front of her. _Kreia. Have to find Kreia. Have to stop her. Get back to the ship._ Meetra headed out of the Enclave, noticing that Vrook's shuttle was gone. She began to run south. She expected to tire, but her stamina seemed limitless. Meetra felt sick as she realized why: she had the strength and powers of three Jedi Masters to draw upon. She ran harder and harder, the plains a green-brown blur around her. Meetra took the direct route, up and over the northern ridge and down past Khoonda to the pad. The ship started to rise as soon as she was solidly on the ramp. She ran into the cockpit; Atton was already punching in a course. He had a deep bruise on his face.

Meetra frowned. "Did Kreia come on board?"

Atton shook his head. "The Handmaiden took her. She thinks Kreia killed you."

Meetra frowned. "Why does she think that?"

"Because that's the lie Kreia told her, that's why," Atton said glumly. "The only thing that matters is that Handmaiden believes it. And she's going to react exactly how that old witch hoped she would. That's why she wanted the Handmaiden on board, you know. So she could use her to reach the Telos Academy whenever she wished-without needing the access codes."

"Kreia just killed the Masters," Meetra said. "Handmaiden wouldn't let her get anywhere near Atris."

"She would, if she thought she was bringing Atris a prisoner," Atton replied. "Especially a Sith Lord. She'll take her to Telos, and Atris will do what she'll do to anyone she thinks is a Sith."

Meetra's eyes widened. "Kreia and I are linked. If she dies…"

Atton nodded grimly. "Yeah… I know."

Meetra slumped into the copilot's seat. "I can't believe Kreia is still Sith."

"Are you surprised?" Atton laughed bitterly. "All that talk of hatred, manipulation, and standing on your own two feet-sorry, you don't get any more Sith than that." He quieted some, leaning back in his seat. "Still, if we were all judged by who we were in the past, I don't think you'd understand who we are now."

Mical stepped in from the main hold. "Master, there's a communication for you-from Onderon."

Meetra climbed out of her seat. "I'll take it in the comm room."

She sat down at the comm console; Xaart appeared on the screen. "General, I'm glad I got you so quickly. You need to watch out for the old-"

Meetra held up a hand to stop him. "Too late." She filled him in on events of the past day. "How did you know?"

"I was reviewing the Palace security logs," he replied. "Look at this." A feed began to play; it was the throne room entrance hall. Meetra had already begun her attack on Vaklu, and the only person in sight was Tobin, lying mortally wounded on the floor.

Kreia walked in and knelt to heal the injured man. "Awaken, Colonel Tobin. Your part in this is not over." He began to stir, and she helped him sit up. "Colonel Tobin, I am with Vaklu. The war has gone against him… he sent me to rescue you, to tell you that you must make haste off-planet. The Jedi have struck. They had a secret Academy buried on Telos, and they are showing themselves at last. We are all in danger."

"What?" Tobin shook his head, confused. "But the Jedi are gone. They have all but vanished."

"So we all thought," Kreia replied. "But they have hidden themselves on Telos."

Tobin got to his feet and pushed Kreia away. "Out of my way, old woman. This war can still be won and Onderon can be freed."

Kreia lowered her head as Tobin ran out of the Palace. "Indeed… this war is far from over."

Meetra's breath hissed out between her teeth. "Xaart, it's time for those reinforcements. Ask Queen Talia to send the _Arca Jeth_ , and get word to Mandalore on Dxun; he'll relay orders to his warriors."

Xaart saluted. "Yes, General. I'll meet you at Telos."

"This is it." Meetra turned to Mical. "Contact your handler with Republic Intelligence. Give him a full report, and make sure he understands how serious the situation is. All available Republic forces should converge on Telos at best speed."

Mical nodded. "Yes, Master."

Meetra stood, and let her shoulders droop. "This has been… a trying day. I need to think for a while." She headed for the dormitory.

* * *

The port dormitory was dark and quiet. Meetra had dimmed the illumination and sat cross-legged on the floor. She'd been in meditation for several hours when a sound made her look up. Mical and Visas stood just inside the door.

"What is wrong?" Visas asked. "Something troubles you, I can feel it."

Meetra snorted. "I don't doubt it."

Mical spread his hands. "This is more than Kreia's betrayal. You've learned something that frightens you. Tell us."

"You can feel me that precisely." Meetra stood. "Why are you following me? Do you understand why you attack who I attack, kill who I kill?"

"I would die for you," Visas said fervently. "When I tell you 'my life for yours,' it is my choice. And if there is an ending between us, where my sacrifice can save you, it will be because it is my desire, not your will."

Mical took a step forward. "I believe in what we are doing-what you are doing. I am here because I choose to be. As I told you, I made the choice years ago-to follow you, echo you."

"Echo me." Meetra shook her head. "How can you know that the Force isn't controlling all this?"

"We simply do," said Mical; Visas nodded agreement. "But you would never have doubted our word before. Something happened within the Enclave. What is it?"

Meetra stared down at her hands. "I learned that I form connections through the Force-and that is why others follow me to their death." She went on to explain the nature of her wound, what had truly happened at Malachor.

Visas actually burst out laughing. "How can wise men know so little? They do not understand you, what it means to be human, to lead. And where they look at you and see the death of the Force, I look at you and see hope for all life."

"When one separates themselves from others, chooses to lead a life of isolation, denying what makes them a feeling being-it is easy to make such judgments." Mical crossed his arms. "You must have told the Council as much. Such judgments, I believe, are made in ignorance. There is no danger in what you represent-other than your humanity. You change others, but I do not believe it due to the Force. I believe it is because you are a natural leader, and because you feel connected to others-as we feel connected to you."

"The feelings I have for you are because of what I see, what I hear in your voice," Visas said. "From the moment I heard your voice across the galaxy, I have longed for you. It is the echo, a wound that travels still, that when heard, made me understand that there was another wounded as I was, one who had felt the same sense of loss. When I heard it, I loved you more than my own life. And I knew that if there was any hope for me, it was with you."

Mical smiled. "When I first met you, I knew then that you were different from the other Masters. They taught us, but you _cared_ for us. There were others who were warm and kind-Zhar and Quatra especially-but none quite like you. I chose then to follow you, model myself after you."

Meetra was too choked up to speak for a while. She looked at her two strongest students with joy in her heart. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Mical bowed and turned to leave, but found Visas blocking his way, wearing a firm, almost stern expression. "Tell her. There's no time left."

"Tell me what?" Meetra frowned.

Mical looked into her eyes. "When I was younger, my feelings were a child's admiration. Now, they are more than that." He took a deep breath. "Master, I love you. Not as a student, but as a man. I have for years, and I always will."

Meetra's eyes went wide. In a flash, a thousand tiny little things fit together. He loved her. It wasn't just her, and it wasn't just the bond. "Mical, I…" Ree smiled in the back of her mind. _It's all right._ She took a step forward, then another, and then she was in his arms, their lips locked together. Visas smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her.

For the rest of the night, Meetra and Mical felt nothing but joy. Neither of them was quite sure how they'd gotten here, but both were glad it had happened. They were getting ready to head to the main hold for breakfast when Meetra felt something very wrong-a sudden aura of despair. Beside her, Mical and sensed it too; the door opened to reveal Visas, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Meetra frowned. "What is wrong?"

"As I said, you are out of time. He awaits you at Telos." The Miraluka's voice was barely above a whisper. "If you go there, you must face him. And when you do, he will wound you as he has wounded me."

"If I do not stop him, then Telos will be destroyed," Meetra replied softly.

"We _have_ to face him, Visas," Mical said. " _You_ have to face him."

"I know it's selfish, I…" Her voice gave out. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I understand better than you know." Meetra knelt down next to Visas, and waved for Mical to join them. "I'm going to tell you something, something I've never told anyone, until now." She took Visas' and Mical's hands and smiled. "I'm going to tell you about a brave young man named Ree, and a promise we made to each other."

* * *

Handmaiden keyed the docking codes into the shuttle's comm. Below, a rectangular section of the polar mesa seemed to collapse: the landing bay force field had dropped, shedding its covering of snow. Handmaiden flared the G-wing to a landing, then grabbed Kreia by the back of her robes. The old woman offered no resistance as Handmaiden shoved her out of the hatch and toward the building entrance. One of the other handmaidens was standing at the door. Last of the Handmaidens of Atris breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized which of her sisters was waiting for her. Second, the oldest of the Handmaidens, was the only real friend she'd ever had before meeting the exile. The others tended to be harsh and cold due to the stigma of her illegitimate birth, but Second didn't fault Last for their father's infidelity.

"Welcome back, Last," Second said; she wasn't smiling.

"Second, you will need to secure this woman." Handmaiden hung her head. "She killed the exile, and the other Jedi."

"We got the message you sent." Second bit her lip. "I'm sorry, but I must escort you to the detention area. Our Mistress is very angry with you. Please, come along; Atris will deal with your prisoner."

Handmaiden nodded; she felt too beaten-down to argue. She followed Second to the irrigation channel room. Second gestured, and Handmaiden stepped inside. She stopped short-there was a chair and table in the center of the room, spread with a meal and hot tea. She spun to look at her sister.

"Atris ordered me to lock you in here. She _didn't_ order me to disarm you, put you in one of the cages, or leave you hungry." Second winked. "Eat and rest, Last, you've been through a lot. Atris will deal with this one, and then she'll have orders for us. This has been a difficult time; I'm glad you're back, even if no one else is."

Handmaiden managed a small smile and bowed. "Thank you, Second." Second hit the door control, then led Kreia away. Last flopped down into the chair and started to eat. She hadn't had anything but water since breakfast the day Meetra had left for the Enclave, and the food was welcome, even if she couldn't taste it. In a few minutes, the meal was gone, and Handmaiden was slowly sipping her tea as she tried to come to grips with what had happened.

Handmaiden hadn't noticed it right away. First, she was too tired, too drained. Second, it wasn't unusual. All of her life in Atris' hidden academy, she'd had an odd sensation. She had assumed the constant upset in the pit of her stomach was stress, from her struggle to belong among her sisters. But she had felt it again, in the Sith Academy, and the Tomb of Freedon Nadd.

She was feeling the dark side of the Force.

Handmaiden rose to her feet, breaking out in a cold sweat. She moved to the door, but Second had locked her in, and the door was cortosis-plated and several centimeters thick. She banged on the door, hoping one of her sisters would hear. There was no answer for a moment, then Handmaiden began to see something in her mind. She'd never had a vision before, but she concentrated and the images became clear. Handmaiden saw Atris, standing alone in her private meditation chamber with her back to the door, as Kreia entered the room.

"Who is there?" Atris asked.

"Who _I_ am is not the question," Kreia replied quietly.

The white-clad woman took a steadying breath. "I am Atris, Jedi Master… the last historian of the Jedi… the last of the Jedi."

"Those are titles," Kreia said, "words you cling to as the darkness falls around you."

"You are that which has attacked the Jedi." Atris set her jaw. "You are Sith."

Kreia stopped perhaps ten steps behind Atris. "'Sith' is a title, yes, but like you, the title is not who I am. It is not what I believe. For you… it is different. Know that there was once a Darth Traya. And that she cast aside that role, was exiled, and found a new purpose. But there must always be a Darth Traya, one that holds the knowledge of betrayal. Who has been betrayed in their heart, and will betray in turn." Kreia moved closer, within arm's reach of Atris. She gestured to the many shelves of the chamber; Handmaiden recognized the small objects as holocrons from Mical's description. "You have bathed in the knowledge of the Sith. But there is not enough in such teachings… but it will be a step for you."

Atris' shoulders drooped. "How did it happen?"

"Search your heart," Kreia replied. "It was never battle that called to you. Never battle that called you to fall. Malachor V has touched many things, and it casts its echoes still."

"Why did she betray me?" Atris asked.

"You betrayed yourself," Kreia said sharply. "Do not blame the exile. And unlike you and I, there is still a chance that one may be saved. The one you cast out."

Handmaiden's heart leaped. _Master Meetra is alive! Then why…_ Her eyes popped wide and she began hammering on the door, kicking, trying anything to get through.

Up in the meditation chamber, Atris sighed. "Where is the exile? I had thought…"

"Oh, she will come," Kreia said. "But it will be too late to save either of us. It is such a quiet thing, to fall. But far more terrible is to admit it."

She walked out of the room. The other Handmaidens stood waiting in the Council chamber; Kreia nodded to them. "Your mistress awaits. She has much to share with you."

As Atris' Handmaidens walked into the meditation chamber, the vision faded out. The vision, Handmaiden realized, which Kreia had allowed her to see. She reached out with the Force, pushing and pulling on the door. The dark side pulsed, and seemed to spread outward from the room above. Handmaiden had no idea how long she struggled with the door; she heard ship engines start, then slowly fade away. She grit her teeth and pulled harder. Metal groaned, and the door moved fractionally. Sweat broke out on Handmaiden's brow as she gave it everything she had. There was a sharp snap, and the door ground open. She sprinted through, heading for the meditation chamber.

* * *

Handmaiden slowed to a stop as she entered the Council chamber. All five of her sisters were standing in her way. Front and center was the First among them. First had always been the most hostile towards Handmaiden. She suspected that was because First was the youngest other than Handmaiden herself. First had few memories of their father; she had grown up hearing only of his betrayal of her mother, and took it out on Handmaiden. On First's right were Fifth, the second-oldest and strongest of the sisters, and Second. To the other side were the middle twins, Third and Fourth.

First's lip curled. "The Last of the Handmaidens is before us."

"It is good that you have returned," said Fifth. "You have much to answer for."

Handmaiden blinked. "What are you saying?"

Third crossed her arms. "You have betrayed us. You have betrayed Atris."

"You are no longer one of us," Fourth agreed. "You followed the Jedi, betrayed your oath."

"Listen to me," Handmaiden said quickly, "Atris has been touched by the Sith, it is not too late for-"

"Silence," Second hissed.

 _Second, not you too!_ Handmaiden's mouth fell open as she saw the look in her sisters' eyes. _Oh, no…_

"It is a crime to kill blood," said First, "but not to kill a betrayer as you."

Handmaiden shook her head. "Please, don't do this. I don't want to fight you!"

"Of course you don't," First said contemptuously. "You were always the last of us. And now we shall show you why."

Handmaiden instinctively reached for her lightsaber, then stopped. First angled her head and raised her eyebrows. Handmaiden reached to the small of her back and brought out her staff. First gave her a tiny smile and a nod; she and the others drew their own staves. Every movement an Echani made said something, if you understood the language. Even though it was five against one, this was still a duel, and they had just agreed on terms. Handmaiden would not use the Force, or her lightsaber; in return, her sisters would not use any of the special arsenal they kept for fighting Force-users. This would be pure hand-to-hand, no tricks.

Second moved in alone, angling her staff. Handmaiden matched her with an appropriate defense, and both women began planning their moves and countermoves. A year ago, this would have been completely one-sided, as Handmaiden hadn't been able to think as many moves ahead as her sisters. Back then, she had always been distracted; there was something throwing her off, an odd sound or vibration. Now she knew the Force for what it was, and it was just another part of her perception, like the feel of air on her skin. Her full focus was on Second, and the attacks to come. A horizontal strike would set up a low thrust, followed by a high swing, all to open Handmaiden up for a leg sweep. She allowed the attack to develop, then kicked Second's plant leg during the sweep. Second staggered and backed off, then tried a flurry of fast attacks in the hope that one would get through. Handmaiden's blocks were every bit as quick, and her counter left Second's ears ringing.

"You shouldn't take me for granted," Handmaiden said softly. "At least, not anymore."

"We shall see," said Fifth. She used a different grip, with one hand at the end of the staff and the other one-third of the way down its length. This gave her more reach and offense, particularly in thrusts and big, sweeping attacks. Handmaiden held her own staff diagonally in front of her, a much more defensive stance. Fifth jabbed at Handmaiden's face, mostly to make her blink, then whipped low for her knees. Handmaiden blocked it and shoved Fifth back. Fifth began a series of big, forceful strikes at Handmaiden's upper body. Handmaiden completely blocked two, but the third left a welt on her left shoulder. She backpedaled, and Fifth followed, winding up for a huge blow from above.

Handmaiden could almost hear Meetra's voice in her head. _She's sacrificing speed for power._ She flipped to the side and Fifth missed her completely; she brought her staff around and hit Fifth in the back of the head. Fifth grunted and shook herself, then spun another big, horizontal attack. Handmaiden dropped under her opponent's staff and tripped her. Both combatants dropped their staves and grappled. Fifth slammed Handmaiden with a headbutt and rolled on top of her. Handmaiden managed to get her legs around Fifth's waist. The stronger woman rained down punches; Handmaiden shielded her head. She grabbed Fifth's collar and pulled her down, then leaned forward, trapping Fifth's head beneath her left arm. Fifth tried to power to her feet; Handmaiden loosened her grip, then planted both legs in her opponent's belly and launched her across the room. She kick-flipped to her feet and picked up her staff.

First smiled coldly. "You've improved. How much, I wonder?" She stepped up slowly, staff held in the offensive grip. Handmaiden shifted to the same grip, and the two women circled. They twisted their staves, thrusting and parrying in a fight that looked more like fencing than anything else. First tried to knock Handmaiden's staff aside and thrust for her throat. Handmaiden stopped the jab with a quick parry, then slid the tip of her staff down to smash First's knuckles. She then drove her staff into First's gut and whacked her across the face, knocking her to the floor.

First spat blood and snarled. "Get her!"

Third and Fourth stepped up, spreading out to either side. All of Handmaiden's sisters were close, but the twins were something special. Their coordination was perfect, and in pairs sparring, they easily beat any other two of the sisters. Handmaiden didn't wait for them to get set up, she charged in, whirling her staff to attack both of them at once. Handmaiden caught the pair by surprise. Up until this point, she'd been using the Echani forms; now, she switched to Ataru. The fast, fluid style overwhelmed Third and Fourth, and Handmaiden was able to get in enough hits to put them both on the ground.

"So, you fight with Jedi techniques now." First was back up, and the others were getting to their feet. "That is quite all right; our Mistress has trained us to defeat all seven forms. You can't hope to beat all of us." She smiled cruelly. "We all know you are the child of dishonor, Last. Why don't you draw your lightsaber?"

"Because I do not need it." Handmaiden's voice was quiet, but with a terrible determination. "You have learned from Atris, who knows nothing of war. She has never walked where our father walked, where my Master walked… where my _mother_ walked."

First was absolutely shaking with anger. "You are a betrayer and a bastard, nothing more. It's time we put you in your place!"

All five of Handmaiden's sisters rushed her at once. She leapt, flipped, and spun around them, striking wherever she found an opening. Handmaiden circled the stone spire in the center of the room, trying to keep it between her and at least one of her opponents. Fifth took a hit to her ribs and staggered, then Second fell to a well-timed strike. Handmaiden was facing down the twins when First caught her behind the knees. She fell and rolled out of the way of First's follow-up, but Third and Fourth struck her in the back and shoulders. Handmaiden drove them back, but turned to see Fifth pole-vault into the air for a flying axe kick. She raised her staff for a high block, but it was not enough. Fifth's kick broke her staff in two and hit Handmaiden in the head; she fell to the ground, stunned.

"This is your best, Last?" First asked scornfully. "You are finished!"

Handmaiden wiped a trickle of blood from her cut lip. She stood slowly, a piece of her broken staff in each hand. She dropped into the Shien stance Meetra had used during the students' final test. Her sisters hesitated for a second, then raised their staves and charged. Handmaiden turned on the spot, whipping her improvised batons around to block incoming strikes. The broken ends of the staff made a high-pitched hum as she swung them through the air. Handmaiden was now using both Ataru and Shien, combining quick strikes and agile dodges with powerful counterattacks. Fourth attacked from behind, but Handmaiden parried and delivered two punishing blows to the head. Fourth went down and stayed down. Handmaiden anticipated Third's attack and turned to block it, then landed a powerful kick to the solar plexus. Third struggled to get her breath, and Handmaiden knocked her out with an uppercut. The remaining trio spread out, looking for Handmaiden to make a mistake. Fifth lunged in and Handmaiden deflected her thrust while evading to the side. She reached over her shoulder with her off hand to block Second swinging for her back. The parry left Second open, and Handmaiden dropped her with a roundhouse to the jaw.

First had stayed out of the last part of the fight, watching Handmaiden closely. Now, she stepped up alongside Fifth. Both used the longer-reach grip with thrusts and jabs, taking maximum advantage of Handmaiden's broken staff. She parried, circling to keep them in front of her. First tried for a big swing; Handmaiden got inside the arc and tagged her with an elbow to the chin. First backed off to regroup and Fifth moved in. Handmaiden let loose a flurry of light strikes, followed by a punishing kick to the stomach. Fifth grunted and attacked angrily, battering Handmaiden with heavy blows. She grabbed the younger woman and tried to slam her into the center stone. Handmaiden braced her feet against the spire and pushed off, hitting Fifth with a flying punch to the head. Fifth went down, and then it was just First and Last.

The two women circled warily, watching for tells. First shouted and ran in swinging. The two didn't even bother with footwork, standing toe-to-toe and trading blows. First swung overhead and Handmaiden raised her batons to block. First collapsed her staff, then extended it again, twisting to disarm Handmaiden's off hand. Handmaiden grabbed the end of First's staff and pulled her in, hitting her over the head with her remaining baton. First let go of the staff and tackled Handmaiden around the waist. They hit the floor; First rolled off and stood, then kicked Handmaiden as she tried to get up. Handmaiden caught the second kick and shoved First off balance, giving herself space to stand. First came back in with punches to the head. Handmaiden kept her guard up, then countered with two to the gut. She was too slow with a left hook; First landed a jab that snapped her head back. Handmaiden responded with a low kick to break First's stance. She threw a weak one-two, followed by a strong uppercut, then jumped for a spinning heel kick. First went over backwards and hit the ground unconscious.

Handmaiden took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and gathered her strength. There wasn't time to be tired yet. She turned to leave the room, took a few steps and stopped short.

Atris was standing in the doorway.

* * *

 **A/N: This is, obviously, Handmaiden's time to shine. She gets to prove herself to her sisters and also show what Meetra has taught her. If duels are conversations to the Echani, she just said "how do you like me now?" Of course, Atris is a bit tougher than the Handmaidens...**


	42. Telos Academy, part two

**Disclaimer: I could never create characters as deep as the ones in this game.**

* * *

The _Ebon Hawk_ dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Telos system. The freighter rocketed toward Telos at maximum throttle. They banked to bypass the docking pattern, ignored the indignant hails from Citadel Station, and dove for the polar region. The crew gathered in the main hold while T3 took the helm.

Bao-Dur glanced at Meetra. "How are we going to get in there? The docking bay and upper hatch will be locked."

"T3." Meetra smiled. "He got the entry codes when he downloaded Atris' archives."

"Well, all right then." Mical rubbed his chin nervously. "That gets us in the door; what then?"

Meetra shook her head. "We'll have to determine the situation and play it by ear. I'm not sure how Atris will react to learning the Council is dead. I will go first, then call for you once I know what's going on." She reached out and grabbed Atton's shoulder. "I know you're worried, but we mustn't rush in." He bit his lip and nodded; Meetra looked around the room. "Whatever happens, you leave Kreia to me. Your mission is to get Handmaiden out of danger, and the other Echani as well. Once the situation in the academy is under control, we will join the defense of Telos."

The force field opened for them; the freighter set down and dropped its ramp. Meetra left the ship and strode into the quiet mesa.

Handmaiden stood before the center stone in the Council chamber. Atris was at the top of a short flight of steps, in the doorway leading to the bridge to her meditation chamber. There was something wrong with her eyes-they looked green.

"Where have you been?" Atris began descending the stairs. "You have been absent for so long, I feared for your safety. Were you with the exile all this time?"

Handmaiden could feel how tense Atris was. She tried to defuse the situation. "Mistress, as you commanded, I…"

Atris cut her off. "Commanded? Did I command you to consort with her? To follow her teachings? To betray your oath?"

Handmaiden frowned. _Consort with her?_ "Mistress, the exile has taught me many things."

"I am certain she did," Atris replied. "And now, perhaps it is time to show me what you have learned."

Handmaiden shook her head. "Mistress, I do not understand. I…"

"Of course you do not," Atris snapped, stepping down to the chamber floor. "But you will learn."

That was when Handmaiden got her first close look at Atris' eyes, and the reason they appeared green. What she saw chilled her. Her old Mistress had beautiful, ice-blue eyes… but now they were streaked with yellow. Handmaiden drew her double-blade as Atris ignited a red lightsaber and charged. She used the powerful, direct attacks of the Juyo form. Handmaiden fended off the first few slashes and answered with a front kick, sending Atris stumbling. The older woman tried a leaping chop, but Handmaiden dodged it. She slashed waist-high and Atris dove and rolled clear. She stood and came in again, feinting low before slicing for the throat, only to have her blade deflected.

Handmaiden knew full well just how fortunate she was. This battle should have been over in seconds. No Padawan with six months' training, even one with Echani skills, should have the slightest chance against a Jedi Master. Handmaiden had lived with Atris for several years; she'd given her servants their initial training in defeating Force-users, but in all that time, she had only sparred with them perhaps two hours a week. Atris was simply out of practice, and her technique was sloppy. Form VII was fueled by the user's aggression, and Handmaiden could feel her mistress' powerful anger, but it was not enough to overcome her rigorous training, combined with being younger and fitter. Handmaiden knocked her opponent off balance and blew her back with the Force. Atris slammed into the stairs and her eyes flashed with fury.

"Enough!" Atris stood and unleashed a torrent of lightning. Handmaiden tried to catch it on her saber, but the bolt was too powerful, and the shock drove her to her knees. Atris strode forward, throwing another bolt, and another. "Did you have feelings for her? Did you touch her, did you look on her with love?" She paused in her attack, glaring down at her former servant. "There is no love in that one. She is a shell, devoid of emotion. All that she was died at Malachor, and she dies there still, as she should."

Handmaiden looked up at Atris, half-smiling. "I have found love, Mistress, but not with the exile. In her, I have found my true Master."

Atris screamed with rage and blasted Handmaiden with more lightning; she jerked, cried out, and collapsed to the floor. There was a sound from the far door and Atris looked up. Meetra stood there, her face a mix of dismay and anger. Atris smiled. "So… one exile has arrived to save another."

Meetra's mouth thinned. "You have truly fallen far to kill a helpless opponent."

"It is no crime to kill the Sith, or any that threaten the Republic," Atris replied, "as you proved in the Mandalorian Wars. This is now my battle, and you are now my enemy."

"Where is Kreia, Atris?" Meetra asked.

Atris laughed coldly. "Kreia? That is not her name. She is gone, and is now beyond your reach, exile. Where she has gone, only I shall follow… after I have dealt with you."

Meetra drew her sabers. "Surrender, Atris. I don't want to fight you."

"Such a noble offer." Atris' voice was dripping with contempt. "Your execution has been too long delayed, exile."

She hurled violet lightning with both hands. Meetra deflected, taking care to send the bolts upward, away from the unconscious women on the floor. She crossed the room in a flash and locked blades with Atris. They shoved; both were thrown back, but Atris slid further. They rushed back in, blades at the ready. Atris tried to overwhelm Meetra with powerful Juyo attacks while Meetra used Shien counters to disrupt her combos. They clashed and circled, with Meetra slowly gaining the upper hand. Atris recognized the danger and retreated several steps. Meetra went after her.

Atris threw her saber at Meetra, who crossed her own blades to block. Atris stopped her saber a meter short and blasted a strong push with her other hand. The combination worked; Meetra slammed into the wall and hit the floor. Atris ran in for the kill, but Meetra was up and fighting before she got there. Another clash of sabers, and Atris was forced back. She unleashed more lightning, forcing Meetra to block continuous streams. The duel bogged down to a stalemate: Atris couldn't hit Meetra, but Meetra couldn't make a move. Eventually, the effort of maintaining the blast drained Atris, who cut off the shocks and slumped. Meetra was in no position to take advantage of the opening, being equally tired from blocking the attack. Both combatants simply stood for a moment, watching each other warily and getting their breath back.

Meetra recovered first. She straightened up and advanced on Atris. By now, the fallen Master knew better than to let Meetra get in close. She sent a blast of dark electricity into her saber, forming a massive lightning blade. Atris slashed at Meetra, keeping her at a distance. Now Meetra was on the back foot. Atris swung the big blade from side to side, keeping it pointed directly at Meetra. Meetra trapped Atris' weapon with crossed sabers and tried to run in. Atris pulled her blade free and thrust to Meetra's face. Meetra parried and backed away. It was another stalemate: Meetra couldn't get into range for saber strikes, but Atris couldn't use her Force attacks while maintaining the lightning blade. Atris tried to break the deadlock by taking the offensive using her oversized saber. Meetra avoided the slow sweeps easily enough, but she was being forced to retreat around the room.

Meetra turned and tried to sprint all the way around the Council chamber, going for Atris' back. It didn't work; Atris was able to bring her blade to bear and slash knee-high. Meetra backflipped and threw both her sabers at the top of her jump. Atris had to dissolve the huge, unwieldy blade in order to block. She deflected the shoto, but Meetra's long blade knocked the saber from her hands. Meetra ran in barehanded. Atris reached into her robes, drawing another hilt: Meetra's old lightsaber.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Meetra spun for a heel kick, knocking the hilt completely across the room. Atris blasted her with a powerful wave, then grabbed up her scarlet saber and ran.

* * *

Meetra paused for breath, then pulled her comlink. "Mical, I've got wounded here. Get to the Council chamber and take care of them. Atris is hostile; I'm going after her."

Meetra headed out the door, up the ramp and into Atris' meditation chamber. She reached the door to find Atris standing in the center of the open floor, waiting.

"She said you would come here, to this place. If you think you can defeat me here, you are wrong." Atris spread her hands to indicate the shelves full of holocrons, tomes, and artifacts, both Jedi and Sith. "All this collected knowledge, all these teachings of combat and the Force-they are mine to command. And if I must use it to end you, I will. Surrender… you need not die."

Meetra shook her head sadly. "You have fallen to the dark side, Atris, surely you see that."

The white-robed woman raised her eyebrows. "Atris… that is not who I am, not any longer. She has not existed for some time, I think. There was always something else within me-it just took time for its voice to be heard."

"What happened to you?" Meetra asked.

"The old woman you traveled with, finally made me… listen to myself, to the galaxy," Atris replied. "She said that you would come here, and that you would face me in battle. She said that you were the last obstacle to my enlightenment. If I truly meant to face the Sith, to see their heart, then that meant facing you, this last time."

Meetra crossed her arms. "Where did she go?"

Atris shrugged. "I do not know-yet. I suspect she went in search of you. But just as when she first came here, her path is difficult to see. She has set many things in motion; it is she that ordered the extermination of all Jedi, so long ago. She will answer for her crimes, in time. She is Sith, just as you are, just as all who followed Revan were." Atris' eyes were fading, growing yellower with each passing moment. "The Sith are here at last-you have brought them to this place, as I had foreseen. It has all been part of my plans for you. And when I defeat you and the forces you have brought to Telos, I shall take the battle to the heart of the Sith, and wipe them out-forever."

"Your plans for me?" Meetra raised her eyebrows. "What plans?"

"These Sith are cowards, striking from the shadows to kill Jedi," Atris said. "I needed a target to draw them out-but I could not risk my own life, all that remained of the Jedi. So I arranged for you to return to the Republic, leaked information of your past, and then waited for the Sith to come. And they did. But you came to Telos, against my predictions. Now they are here, I can finally face this enemy and defeat them."

Meetra set her feet. "Surrender, Atris. This has gone too far already." _It's probably too late, but I can hope._

"Surrender? To you? Never." Atris ignited her saber. "Let us end this!"

She threw a push powerful enough to scar the floor. Meetra blurred to the side and threw her shoto ahead as she ran in. Atris blocked with her saber, then used another push at point-blank range. Meetra crashed to the floor, rolling several times before she slid to a stop. Atris hurled her lightsaber at the prone woman; Meetra barely jumped out of the way. She hit the ground running and headed in at full speed. Atris raised her saber overhead, bringing it around and down in a diagonal slash. The force of the blow stopped Meetra cold. Atris swung again, this time aiming for Meetra's legs. She wanted Meetra to jump, and be vulnerable to another push. Instead, Meetra blocked with her long blade, then used her shoto to stop the upward slash which followed. Atris' blade was trapped low by Meetra's crossed sabers, leaving her upper body open. Meetra opted to kick for the head. Atris leaned back to avoid the blow, but that left her off-balance. Meetra lowered her shoulder and shoved, sending Atris sprawling.

"It's over, Atris." Meetra stood over her fallen foe, saber pointed. "Drop your weapon and yield."

The Force wave blew Meetra all the way to the door. Atris stood, eyes fairly glowing yellow. Meetra could feel the darkness flowing into her from the Sith holocrons lining the walls. She saw Atris powering up a massive Force Storm, and didn't even try to block it. She ran forward and to the side; the first blast missed behind her. She raced around the room, everything seeming in slow motion as she turned in at Atris. The fallen Jedi ran to meet her, swinging her saber furiously. They clashed in the center of the room, locking blades before pushing apart and smashing in again. Meetra had always been the better fighter, but she had never seen Atris like this before. Her strikes were powerful, and getting stronger as she drew on the dark side. Meetra was running out of options, and time-Darth Nihilus would be arriving any minute.

 _I have no choice left_. _I have to defeat her-now._ Meetra left an opening in her guard, and Atris went for it. Before the blow fell, Meetra had flickered out of the way. She slammed down with the pommel of her saber, shattering Atris' wrist and forcing her to drop her saber. A hard kick broke four ribs, and Atris went down. Meetra clamped her hands onto Atris' head, disrupting the connection with the holocrons. Atris lay on the ground where she had fallen, gasping for breath.

"Kill me," Atris hissed. "End this."

"I will not kill a helpless opponent, Atris," Meetra said firmly.

Atris' eyes cleared, fading back to blue and filling with tears. "It is the punishment I deserve for my betrayal. I sensed what would happen on Katarr. It was I who leaked knowledge of the Conclave in hopes of drawing the Sith out." She sighed. "I did not expect mercy from you… here, at the end. After all that has happened between us." She reached up, grabbed Meetra's hand. "Strike-you do not have much time."

"What…" And then Meetra felt it-a malevolent vibration, coming from all around her. The Sith holocrons were reaching out, clawing at the fallen Jedi on the floor. Atris was holding them off with all her remaining strength, but she had minutes, no more. Meetra bit her lip and met Atris' eyes. "I need to know what Kreia told you. Everything you can tell me. Where are the Sith striking from."

Atris shook her head. "You always knew where they were striking from. You always knew."

Meetra's jaw dropped. _Of course!_ "Is that where Kreia has gone?"

"Yes. I had thought she was awaiting me at that place, but I see now that she lied. It was not meant for me… but for you." Atris took a breath and winced. "She has gone there. She is waiting for you to travel to Malachor V, to finish what you started. She seeks to create another echo, a wound in the Force, greater than the one before-greater than the one you caused. It will deafen all touched by the Force, until no life is left. You were strong enough to withstand it once-but few have your strength in such matters, especially if they are unprepared."

"Why would Kreia do that?" Meetra asked.

Atris closed her eyes for a moment, pushing back against the lowering darkness. "I do not know. But she needs you there. If you choose not to follow, she will murder herself at the heart of Malachor, and you will die along with her." Her eyes opened; they were starting to yellow at the edges. "She seeks the death of all Jedi, all Sith… and the death of the Force. It is madness, it is impossible-but she believes you are the key."

Meetra frowned. "Why would I matter?"

"She is willing to sacrifice herself at the heart of that graveyard world for you," Atris said softly, "a choice others have made in the past. A choice I wished to make. It is because I care for you, and I suspect that you alone hold that place in her heart, where nothing else lives. And that is why you are the only one who can stop the destruction to come."

Meetra shook her head. "Atris, I am sorry. I did not realize that the Mandalorian Wars would hurt others that had known me… and cared for me."

Atris lowered her eyes. "It does not matter. Not now-it is what I did with such pain that caused the wound. But I thank you." She looked up and smiled; the blue was nearly gone from her eyes. "May the Force be with you, Meetra."

"And with you, Atris," Meetra replied gently. "Until we meet again."

Atris closed her eyes. The darkness surged, and her eyes snapped open, burning yellow. She let out a scream of rage and raised her hands, fingers crackling with electricity. Meetra slashed once, and the fallen Jedi was no more. She turned and left the room without a word.

* * *

Meetra returned to the Council chamber to find her students treating the injured women. Handmaiden was sitting up, with Atton kneeling beside her. She scrambled to her feet, joy on her face. "You came for me. I thought I had lost you."

Meetra grinned. "For a minute there, I thought _I_ had lost _you_."

Handmaiden shook her head. "Kreia… she said the council had ended you. And all along, she was one of those who had sought to kill us."

Meetra nodded grimly. "Kreia has told many lies, and their architecture is difficult to see."

"When I heard her say that you were dead, I… I failed you," Handmaiden said. "I let my emotion run through me, and I acted without thinking." Her face clouded up. "I wanted to punish her… hurt her, see her answer for what she had done to the Jedi, for leading you to the council…"

"Calm yourself," Meetra said sternly. "I am here, and so are the others. We still have a task before us."

"Of course. Forgive my display." Handmaiden took a deep breath. "I… I am the Last of the Handmaidens no longer. I am Brianna Kae, disciple of the last of the Jedi. And the one who will stand with you against all enemies who face us."

Meetra beamed. "It is good to hear your name."

Brianna nodded. "It is… good to claim it, after so long."

"Mistress." Brianna turned at hearing First speak. Her sisters were standing in line a few meters away. In unison, they knelt. "Mistress, forgive us."

"I am not your Mistress, and there is nothing to forgive," Brianna said evenly. "Atris had been corrupted by the dark side, and she was influencing you all this time." She set her jaw. "Sisters, I need your help."

The Handmaidens stood as one. "We are prepared," First said.

"The Sith are coming, will be here any moment." Brianna gestured to indicate Atris' room. "This place holds many of the Jedi teachings, along with Sith artifacts which could endanger the entire galaxy. Neither must fall into enemy hands. I am asking you to lay down your lives if necessary."

First nodded. "We will hold this place if we can, and destroy the mesa if we cannot. Good luck, Brianna." She waved, and the Handmaidens ran to prepare for battle.

The Council chamber was quiet; Meetra's students were standing around the edges, waiting for orders. Meetra glanced up at Atris' room, then began to walk away. She stopped, hesitated, and then picked up her old lightsaber. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted the hilt, remembering. She hit the ignition stud and the blade came out dull and gray; the crystal was completely out of tune with her.

"How about that." Meetra smiled at Bao-Dur. "This isn't my lightsaber anymore." She spun and stabbed the blade into the center stone, then left it there. "Brianna, take a moment if you need to. We'll be waiting aboard the _Hawk_." The Jedi headed for the hangar. Brianna took a look around the room, then turned to leave herself.

Atton was leaning against the doorframe. "You hit me."

Brianna lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry. I panicked."

"That's not what I mean." He walked toward her, wagging his finger. "You knocked me out cold with a single punch so quick I never even saw it." Atton cocked his head. "Brianna… did you let me win?"

"Atton!" Brianna's mouth fell open. "How could you even ask that?"

Atton raised his eyebrows. "You didn't say no."

Brianna slapped him full in the face, spun on her heel, and walked away. She didn't smile until her back was turned.

"Be careful, Atton. She's naïve, Atton. Don't break her heart, Atton." Atton rolled his eyes and grinned. " _Women!_ " He ran after the others, chuckling to himself.

* * *

 **A/N: The confrontation with Atris is tricky, since I'm combining the plot from the m!Exile and f!Exile. I decided to go with the idea that Atris is both torn by her decision not to follow Meetra to war (as she is in both plots), and jealous of Handmaiden, (as she is with the m!Exile). Let me be clear: Atris isn't ashamed that she's attracted to a woman, the Star Wars universe is more liberal than that. Atris is troubled by having feelings for anyone, which is against her the more conservative interpretations of the Jedi Code. (At this point in the canon, the Jedi are not yet forbidden to love and marry, but some Masters discourage it.) In my headconon, Atris' master was Vrook, which explains a lot.**


	43. Battle of Telos, part one

**Disclaimer: Look, just skip this bit where I say I don't own KotOR and get to the action already.**

* * *

The crew gathered in the main hold; Meetra and Brianna ran over what they had learned as T3 lifted them off. A small dot was circling above them at the edge of the atmosphere; as they got closer it grew into Mandalore's G-wing. He hailed the larger ship. "It looks like I arrived in time, Surik. I know about Kreia; are your people all right?"

"All safe and sound," Meetra said. "We're ready."

"Good," Mandalore chuckled, "because the real fight's just getting started. Look there!"

A battle was raging in orbit as the _Ebon Hawk_ climbed towards Citadel Station. Meetra took one look at Darth Nihilus' fleet and caught her breath. The escort vessels were a mix of Republic and Mandalorian designs. There were four heavies: three _Interdictor_ -class heavy cruisers and the battlecruiser _Ravager_ -her old flagship from Malachor. _Nihilus must have salvaged ships damaged by the mass shadow generator._

The Republic fleet had arrived-and they had allies. Meetra was heartened to see the _Arca Jeth_ , along with three Selkath warships and what appeared to be an armed civilian ship. As she watched, the Mandalorian troopship arrived. It came about and headed for the civilian docks on the station's trailing edge. A wave of Sith shuttles was inbound, escorted by a Sith frigate and destroyer. The Mandalorian troopship closed in to engage, but it couldn't take two ships alone. Sith Interceptors moved in to attack the station's defense guns and clear the way for the landing. Onderonian fighters arrived on the scene, two Chelas leading a dozen Aureks. Behind them were a pair of shuttles with Riiken's troopers. The Sith moved to cut them off. The troopship fired concussion missiles, as did the Chelas. The Sith fighters went into evasive maneuvers, giving the Onderonians the initiative. The Chelas and eight Aureks stayed on the interceptors, while the last four dove in at the destroyer. The agile escort began a turn to present its broadside, but the troopship hit it with a full salvo from its ion cannon. Electricity crackled across the frigate, disabling its engines, weapons, and shields. The Sith ship went from deadly threat to sitting duck in the blink of an eye. The Aureks fired two torpedoes each and the destroyer blew up. The troopship began trading fire with the frigate; the Mandalorians scored hits on the bridge and engine room, leaving the Sith ship crippled and burning. It began a slow tumble, drifting off around Telos' night side. The landers kept coming; the fighters and guns took a toll, but more than half reached the station and unloaded their troops. The Mandalorian ship launched its Q-carriers, then began a turn to circle near the dock module.

"Bralor will patrol above the station until we're ready," Mandalore said. "The dropships are delivering Nevran and his volunteers now; my warriors will wait in reserve until you give the order to assault the Sith flagship. "

Meetra called Citadel on comm; after a few moments, there was a response. "Jedi Surik? This is Lieutenant Grenn, and I am very glad you're here."

"We're two minutes out, Lieutenant," Meetra said. "We're headed for the Entertainment Module shuttle dock, and I'll head to your office from there."

"Negative, Surik," Grenn replied. "What you just saw was the third assault wave. They've already got troops and Dark Jedi aboard the station. I've been forced to retreat from TSF headquarters; my temporary command post is in the Ithorian offices. There's an emergency airlock you can use to dock and join me here."

Meetra waved Atton to the cockpit. "We're on our way."

The two ships joined in loose formation and flew up towards the station. A few fighters came their way, but the turrets handled them easily. There was only one airlock, so they used an unusual arrangement: The _Ebon_ _Hawk_ docked to the station at its starboard dormitory hatch, and then the shuttle clamped on to the port hatch, using the freighter as a bridge. Mandalore and Xarga walked through the ship, and joined Meetra and the others as they stepped into the station. The place was obviously a combat zone. The module was lit by red emergency illumination and the deck was shaking slightly; Meetra could smell smoke and hear blaster fire in the distance. She emerged into the large central room of the Ithorian compound. Several groups of troopers were gathered in the compound, clearly re-supplying before returning to the fight. Meetra spotted Soka Linu and her squad; they wore TSF armor, but still carried the weapons taken from Samhan Dobo. Next to Linu was Zherron, with about thirty Khoonda militia. They noticed the Jedi and called greetings. Meetra acknowledged them with a nod and moved to the command post in Chodo Habat's office.

Lieutenant Grenn looked up as she stepped inside. "Well, what do we have here? I didn't believe it when Linu reported the _Ebon Hawk_ was hailing, but here you are." He grinned slyly. "Though given the trouble we've been having, maybe I shouldn't be surprised to see you."

Meetra returned the smile, then got serious. "What's the situation, Lieutenant?"

Grenn folded his arms. "We knew the Sith were coming, thanks to your man Mical. But we didn't know exactly when, and the Navy base didn't have the resources to maintain full alert around the clock. The only option was to keep up regular fighter patrols, with the rest of the force on standby. They were able to scramble everything in a little less than fifteen minutes, and get the station's guns manned in ten." He shook his head. "It wasn't enough. We did our best, but we couldn't stop the landing craft that followed the initial wave. We couldn't hold back the Sith troops. We chose to retreat and begin the evacuation instead." He put his hands on his hips. "Then, there's also the fuel situation. We were getting emergency fuel shipments from the Republic Navy, but the last convoy had to turn back; those tankers are too vulnerable, and if one were hit while docked with the station, we'd be blown to pieces. We cannot refuel until the battle is over, and the station's defenses are burning through our reserves."

"So, we don't have much time," Bao-Dur said grimly.

"We have several objectives to deal with, but first things first." Grenn crossed his arms. "The Sith are currently holding TSF headquarters in Entertainment 081. They can control many of the station's main systems if they slice the console in my office, but if we take it back, I can use the station's security and engineering systems against them. We have to push the Sith back and retake the entertainment module."

There was a heavy, muffled thump from outside. Meetra knew from experience that was a satchel charge or demolitions pack, not too far away. The sound of blaster fire picked up suddenly. Zherron trotted in. "Lieutenant Grenn, Sith forces have breached the module and are trying to pen us up in the compound."

Grenn swore. "Damn! Zherron, I need you and your men to hold them off! There are still Ithorians in here, and we have to get them out!"

"We'll lead the counterattack." Meetra took a deep breath. "Once we push the Sith back, get the Ithorians to safety. Zherron, Linu, follow me with your people." She left the room with her students in tow; a combined TSF-militia force fell in behind them as she headed through the main room.

The fighting was furious as soon as they went through the compound's front door. The Jedi lit their sabers and spread out, covering the troops as they came out of the compound. The Sith were setting up automated turrets, which laid down suppression on the defenders. The fire was heavy, but nothing worse than they'd faced on Onderon and Dxun. Meetra and the others advanced on a line, spaced about two meters apart, with their allies backing them up. The turrets were a problem; their fire was so heavy that the Jedi couldn't drop their guard long enough to attack. Meetra called for HK to focus on the turrets, and the assassin droid began systematically taking them out while Mandalore kept the troopers pinned. As the Sith fire slackened, the friendly troopers sent them running with a half-dozen grenades. They fell back across the bridge to Entertainment 081.

Meetra was walking to the bridge entrance when a white-and-silver blur flashed by her. Brianna ran flat out, cutting down two Sith before they could close the blast door at the far end. She put her back to the wall panel and stood her ground, preventing anyone from sealing the module. Meetra arrived to back her up, followed by the others. TSF officers and militia crossed the bridge and spread out into the entertainment module. The battle was hard-fought, but they pushed the Sith back along the street towards TSF headquarters. The office itself was sealed; Mira and Bao-Dur cut the door open and Mira was blown backward into the far wall. Six Dark Jedi were waiting inside; Bao-Dur ran in with Meetra right behind. Their duel pretty well destroyed the outer office, but the command post was back in friendly hands.

Grenn sprinted to his console and began working. It took him a few minutes to gather information, then a hologram of the station materialized in the center of the room. "This is the situation: Sith troopers are focusing their assault on the station's defenses and infrastructure, but there is still fighting near residential areas. We're doing everything we can to get the civilians out of harm's way. From Module 90 to the leading edge, they're headed to the Republic base, and the adjacent cargo docks. At our end of the station, we're moving people to the docks on the trailing edge, then taking them off in anything with engines. Republic troops and several allied units are currently pushing outward from the base, securing the gunnery modules and residential areas, as well as the cargo docks on the southern rim where the Sith landed. They appear to have the situation there well in hand, so we should focus our efforts on the trailing half of the station, between here and the passenger docks. The main fight will be in the mechanical spaces of the station: orbital thrusters, fuel and power systems, the Sith are trying to wreck anything they can. The Onderonian troops are already down there, but it's a tough fight, lots of walkways, gantries, and tight corridors. The Sith aren't hitting the residential areas as hard, but there are some units attacking the civilians as they flee. Major Nevran and his veterans are moving out from the 120 module block, trying to establish a safe route to the docks."

Zherron pointed to the module they had just left. "Jedi, you'd better not leave those ships sticking out from the airlock like that. They're too vulnerable, someone's sure to blast them."

Meetra studied the hologram and nodded to herself. "Agreed. T3 and G0-T0 can move the _Hawk_. The naval base should be safe enough."

"I must leave you for a time to gather my Mandalorian warriors." Mandalore tapped his fist against his chest plate. "We will rejoin you when the time comes for the assault on the _Ravager._ "

"Good luck." Meetra took a moment to think. _I can't abandon the civilians, but if the Sith manage to sabotage a major system…_ "Brianna, Atton, HK, take Linu and a TSF force, and clear a path to the docks. Zherron, your militia are with me, and the rest of my Jedi. We're heading into the engineering section."

* * *

Atton and Brianna walked down the center street of Entertainment 078. HK-47 was between and behind them, rifle on his shoulder. Soka Linu and the other TSF officers followed behind, bounding from one covered position to the next. The emergency lighting left deep shadows in doorways and alleys. Linu gripped her rifle tightly. "Careful, Jedi. This was a bad sector even before the Sith attack. Luxa's people tampered with the security sensors to cover up their dealings, so Grenn can't warn us of any threats."

The warning was punctuated by the sound of blaster fire. Brianna sprinted to the next intersection and stopped. The streets were blocked by a blast door. The walls were pockmarked with carbon scoring, and more than a dozen bodies lay scattered around. Several were Sith troopers, but many more were rough-looking men and women of various species, all wearing some kind of armor.

Linu knelt by a dead Aqualish. "I recognize these people-Exchange muscle, smugglers, even a shopkeeper. They must have fought back, tried to hold the module."

"Statement: they're still fighting." HK moved to the door of a nightclub on one corner. "Statement: I hear shooting inside. I will follow you."

The two Jedi went through the door together, sabers up and ready to block anything that came their way. The building interior had been devastated by a prolonged firefight. All of the tables had been overturned, used as cover by one side or the other. Troopers were pouring into the club from a ragged hole in the side wall, clearly trying to bypass the blast door by going through the building. A small group of armed civilians were holding out behind the bar, but the Sith had them surrounded. Linu and the TSF volley-fired, cutting down a dozen. The people behind the bar let out a glad roar and came up shooting. The Sith troopers were caught in a crossfire, and they fell back, retreating all the way to the entry hole.

"Never thought I'd be happy to see the law in here." The speaker was a heavyset human wearing spacer's clothes and holding a blaster carbine. "Thanks for the assist."

Linu crossed her arms. "Possession of a weapon is a parole violation, Karrde." She smiled thinly. "Too bad about all the smoke in here; I can't see a damned thing."

Karrde grinned, then grew serious. "I've got people hiding in back. We need to get them out of here before those bastards come again."

"Head the way we came from," Linu replied. "Take them down the station to the Navy base. I'll call the lieutenant, tell him you're coming. There may be Sith in the adjacent lines of modules. We locked the crossing bridges, but they're not sealed or welded. Watch yourself."

Karrde clapped his hands. "Everybody out! Front door, move it!"

About thirty civilians came out the kitchen door. Karrde pointed them to the exit, then swore and began shooting. A Sith assassin had moved in close; three more attacked from the shadows. Atton and Brianna managed to stop two, but the third killed a TSF officer before HK shot him dead. More troopers rushed into the club, along with a pair of black-clad Sith apprentices. The Jedi met them on the dance floor as Karrde hustled the last civilians out the door. Karrde and his crew went with them, while the TSF moved up to engage the Sith. Atton feinted low, then slashed for the throat. The Sith blocked and Atton stomped on his foot and tripped him. He cut the apprentice down before he could recover. Brianna had already finished off the warrior attacking her and had moved to push back the troopers. HK crossed the open floor, sweeping the Sith position with his flamethrower. The Sith inside the club were killed; those outside couldn't get past the flames.

Atton stopped short of the wall of fire. "Linu, take your officers back to the blast door. We will go through here; when we do, open the door and flank the Sith."

"Yes, sir!" Linu headed out the front door with the rest of the TSF force following. Atton took a deep breath and glanced at Brianna. She set her feet and nodded. HK came up behind Atton and leveled his rifle at the hole. Atton threw a push, blowing the fire out. Brianna sprinted through the hole and cut down two troopers before they could even take aim. Another apprentice leapt at her blind side and HK hit him square in the head. Two more apprentices were closing in, along with a Sith Master with a saber in each hand. At least a hundred troopers closed in, carbines aimed. The blast door flew open and the TSF tore into them with rifle fire and grenades. Atton threw his saber at the master, who blocked it easily. Brianna went after the apprentices to give Atton a clear field while he faced the Master down. Atton exchanged a few opening slashes, then locked blades. The Sith twisted, trying to free his shoto for a killing blow. Atton let his legs go limp, dropping to the ground. The Sith fell forward and Atton cut him in half. He rejoined the TSF and led the attack on the remaining troopers.

Brianna landed from another flip, shifting her stance to threaten both apprentices. The two Sith had tried the usual tactic of pinning her between them and going for her blind side. Her defense was to attack, first and fast. She used spins, jabs, and quick slashes, forcing her foes to parry constantly. The apprentices were skilled, and began answering her attacks with Shien counters. Brianna fought to stay calm; she couldn't afford to make a mistake. She feinted low, then stabbed at one Sith's chest. He blocked downward, forcing her blade low and exposing her head. The other apprentice went for the kill; Brianna took one hand off her double-blade and blew him back with a push. This left the other apprentice to face her alone and she hammered him with a flurry of strong slashes. She knocked his blade up and to the right, then spun and severed his legs. The man fell screaming; Brianna finished him with a quick thrust and moved on. The second apprentice choked her. She dropped her saber and put both hands to her throat. The Sith grinned cruelly and closed in, raising his saber. Brianna flicked her hand; her saber ignited and flew forward, cutting him in half. She took a deep breath and ran to catch up with Atton.

Atton and the TSF had fought their way through to the end of the module. Soka Linu called a halt. "We've got a big fight ahead. What would be modules 91 through 110 are one very large unit, Habitat 095. It has houses, parks, the works; it's like a decent-sized town planet-side. Now, it's full of Sith. Nevran and his veterans are heavily engaged, trying to hold them off long enough for the civvies to escape to the docks. Lieutenant Grenn wants us to hit them from the rear, disrupt them to take the pressure off Nevran."

"Sounds reasonable." Atton motioned the others into cover to either side, then opened the door. There was no resistance, so he moved through with Brianna behind him and the TSF trailing. The habitat module was at least ten kilometers long; sunlight streamed in through huge transparisteel skylights. The near wall was lined with apartment buildings, with the ground sloping down through a park toward a cluster of single-family homes, then rising to a business district on the far side. A mass of people was moving up the larger streets towards the far end of the module and the docks beyond. The housing section was a battleground; Nevran's people had barricaded themselves in several buildings and were trying to hold off a massive Sith attack. There were hundreds of troopers trying to advance against the veterans, who were putting up a stiff resistance with the equipment the Mandalorians had provided. But the battle was turning. A group of Dark Jedi assaulted a strongpoint, a pair of repeater nests in the upper stories of houses near the center of Nevran's line. They went through several doors and windows at once, and the guns fell silent a few moments later. Sith troopers rushed into the gap in the defense, and the Dark Jedi went after another nest. The veterans began falling back to keep from being cut off.

Atton snapped his fingers and pointed to the nearest apartment tower. "Take the first shot, HK. Aim for one of the Dark Jedi. After that, prioritize repeaters and grenadiers. The rest of us will open up once you've fired."

"Statement: order acknowledged. I will be in position in ninety seconds." HK hefted his rifle and trotted inside.

Atton raised his comlink. "Major Nevran, this is," he hesitated, "this is Padawan Atton of the Jedi Order. I've arrived at the inner edge of the habitat module."

"Good to hear from you," Nevran replied; the sound of blaster fire was loud over the comm. "I'm in trouble here. The damned Sith are taking out my repeaters! I can't hold much longer, Jedi. They're breaking my center."

"I know, Major," Atton said calmly. "I'm in position to attack them from behind. I need your men to keep most of their infantry busy while I deal with the Dark Jedi. Wait for my people to attack, then hit them."

Linu and her officers found good shooting positions and took aim. There was a few seconds' silence, then all hell broke loose. HK's first shot caught a Sith Master in the center of his back, killing him instantly. The TSF fire ripped into the troopers, who took a few moments to realize they were flanked. They began returning fire, and a heavy trooper with a repeater turned to engage the TSF. Atton and Brianna stepped up to deflect the fire. The Sith spotted their lightsabers; they were too far away to be heard but the Jedi could see them pointing frantically. Another Sith Master gestured, clearly giving orders. Most of the Sith troopers took cover and suppressed the veterans. The Master and several apprentices gathered at the bottom of the street, along with about fifty troopers. They spread out and advanced.

Brianna met Atton's eyes. They knew each other's thoughts and didn't need to speak. Atton went first, running down the road at the cluster of Sith. Brianna followed, trailing by about five meters and spread to the right. Atton attacked the first Sith apprentice. The swing was early, too far away to connect, but it cleared his blade. Atton ducked down and Brianna slashed over top of him, taking the Sith's head off. She spun her other blade to block the second apprentice up high, and Atton cut him in half. Sith troopers began shooting from the right; Atton reflected the bolts back at them and got three. The others fell back behind the Sith Master and the last three apprentices. The Sith spread out, with the Master holding the center. Suddenly, all four Sith threw themselves flat on the ground, and the infantry opened up with carbines, repeaters, and grenades. The barrage lasted perhaps ten seconds; when the smoke cleared, Atton was gone.

The Dark Jedi charged Brianna, who met them head-on. She held them off for a short while, then Atton decloaked and backstabbed an apprentice. The Master locked blades with Brianna and shoved her backwards, leaving the apprentices to handle Atton. He handled the one-on-two just fine, weaving and circling unpredictably. One apprentice threw lightning, but Atton deflected it back at him. He shot his hand out and the Sith braced for a push-but Atton didn't push, he _pulled_. The apprentice was dragged forward, into the path of the other Sith's attack. Atton lunged and stabbed through the already-dead apprentice into the Sith who had killed him. He ran to join Brianna's fight against the Sith Master. The Master caught them both in a whirlwind. Atton tumbled out of control, but Brianna managed to concentrate and throw her lightsaber so that the spin made it fly faster. The Sith Master never knew what hit him.

The last of the troopers were caught between the TSF and Nevran's veterans and gunned down. The veterans raised a hearty cheer and ran to shake hands with Linu and her squad. Both Jedi took a moment to catch their breath and tend to their injuries. Brianna clicked her comm. "Master, we've made it through to Nevran. The civilians are being evacuated to the docks."

"Well done, you two," Meetra answered. "We're below you in the mechanical spaces. Head for the old Czerka bay in Docks 126. Mandalore is waiting for us there."

* * *

 **A/N: All through this story, though she didn't really realize it, Meetra was gathering an army. And now they're on the march!**


	44. Battle of Telos, part two

**Disclaimer: Lucasarts. BioWare. Obsidian Entertainment.**

* * *

The heavy door ground open with a screech. Meetra stepped inside and took a quick look around. The maintenance access off the Entertainment Module had led down a short hallway to this machine shop. Racks of tools hung on the wall, and several workbenches held machinery in various states of repair. The immediate area was quiet, no one around. Meetra keyed her comm. "Captain Riiken, this is General Surik. Captain, do you copy?"

There was nothing but random static over the comm. Bao-Dur shook his head. "That won't work down here, Master. The electronics and wiring generates heavy interference, just like the area around the docks on Nar Shaddaa. Good news, it will disrupt the operation of cloaking fields, so Darth Sion's assassins won't be able to surprise us. Bad news, no comlinks; comms are handled through the computer network." He walked to a wall terminal and worked for a moment, then swore. "Hardline has been cut, either sabotage or battle damage. We'll have to find the Onderonians the hard way. That's bad; this station is thousands of kilometers long, but they'll be engaging the Sith, wherever they are."

Zherron nodded. "Let's get moving."

They left the machine room and found themselves on a wide walkway suspended between two rows of massive structures. They were conical and nearly thirty meters in diameter at the base, far below in the dim light. Bao-Dur pointed. "This is one of the thruster arrays. The engines themselves are in the point of each cone, the rest is just the thruster nozzle. The thrusters aren't firing right now, otherwise it would be pretty hot in here. That's the outer hull down there. Should be secure; there's nothing for the Sith to break, unless they just want to punch a hole. There are too many thrusters for the Sith to bring this place down by going after the engines. Even if they could, it wouldn't be an immediate problem. With the fuel cut, the station will lose some altitude while the thrusters are off, but it won't deorbit for a week or so. They'll be after main power generation. Solar cells and batteries will handle a minimal power load, but we need more, for the shields, weapons, and electronics." He stroked his chin. "If it were me… The fuel is volatile while gaseous and stored at high pressure in huge tanks. No good. We know it's dangerous, the design accounts for that. Tank walls are three meters thick, armor-grade durasteel. Could be breached with a plasma torch or lightsaber, but it would take a long time. The fuel is treated and stabilized into a liquid form, then pumped to the thrusters or to power generation. Fuel lines? No good. Too many pipes, have to cut dozens of them before enough thrusters or generators went down. Same thing with pumps, too many backups, they'd just reroute the fuel from…" He snapped his fingers. "From one of the pipeline control rooms. You could shut down the pumps, starve all the thrusters and generators at once. They're redundant; any room can control the whole system, in case the others go down. There are only three control rooms. Forward one's at the far end of the station, under the naval base, which is in friendly hands. That leaves two. The middle control room is not far from here. Aft control is at the docks, more than four thousand kilometers away. Not to worry. There is a high-speed monorail which moves personnel and supplies along the underside of the station. If the Sith aren't at the near room, we can take the monorail to the other one. It passes anything they'd want to sabotage."

"Lead the way." Meetra and the rest fell in behind Bao-Dur and they got moving. The station's engineering section was huge, a network of corridors, rooms, and access ways which ran along the underside of the station. They passed one of the massive shield emitters which cordoned off a new Restoration Zone until the towers could be built groundside. It was shut down, all power going to the station's defense. Meetra bit her lip; the deadly atmosphere was even now suffocating the newly-seeded land far below. The Ithorians' work, their struggle against Czerka, the lives lost in the Exchange attack, all would be for naught unless the battle was won. The passageway opened into a small launch bay, with a utility tug hanging from a docking arm. Telos was visible below, outside the force field. Numerous civilian ships were passing by, between Citadel and the surface. They were using the station for cover, then making a run for safety beyond the Republic fleet. Mira whistled and pointed: there was a terminal on the platform next to the tug. Bao-Dur ran to the console and got to work. He grinned and clapped his hands together as the screen lit up.

Captain Riiken had a large bandage on his cheek and looked worried. "Really glad to hear from you, General. We're in a tight spot here."

"Where is 'here?' What's your situation?" Meetra asked.

"We're underneath the docks," Riiken replied. "I'm trying to hold the Sith forces back. They're after the aft pipeline control room, along with the docking bay field emitters. They take the emitters out, all the bays depressurize-nothing can launch, and the civilians are trapped. The pipeline controls could cripple the station, make it indefensible. I had a platoon secure the control room near you, but they're cut off, and I can't raise them. I'm holding several hallways, but they're slowly pushing us back. Not long before our backs are to a wall here."

Meetra moistened her lips. "We'll be there as fast as we can. I'll relieve the central room, then take the monorail to your location."

They set off at a fast trot. A low whirring sound grew steadily louder as they approached some kind of heavy machinery. After a minute or two, Meetra heard muffled blaster fire and broke into a run. The corridor ended in a door; on the other side was a room so massive she couldn't see the sides or the far end. The red emergency lighting was enough for Meetra to see that she was on a catwalk more than a hundred meters in the air. Below stood row after row of huge fuel tanks, connected by a maze of pipes to the main line running down the center of the room. The whirring sound was several large pumps feeding the pipeline. The control room was a small building at a junction of the catwalks, about three hundred meters away. Sith were surrounding the building, firing into the windows as the defenders tried to hold them off. Meetra broke into a sprint, but the Sith got a grenade in the doorway before she could get there. The blast sent a gout of flame out of all the windows, and the firing died down. So did the whirring of the fuel pumps. Meetra slammed into the Sith from the rear, slashing her way through them to the control room. The suddenness of her assault caught the Sith off guard. Zherron and the Khoonda militia arrived and blasted the troopers, who had no cover on the catwalks. The Sith began falling back, running along the catwalks until they disappeared in the dim light.

Meetra headed inside the control room. One Onderonian was still alive, though hurt badly. Mical knelt by him. "Stay still, help is here. Where are you hurt?"

"Left side, ribs," the soldier gritted. "It's not too bad. I just barely missed the whole blast, but I'm the only one who did. Once we were cut off from the monorail, the Sith main force moved on. They left maybe two hundred to mop us up."

"You did all right, trooper," Meetra said gently. "Once the area is clear, we'll get you evacuated." She turned to Bao-Dur. "How does it look?"

Bao-Dur was already working feverishly. "Bad, Master. Several sections of pipeline have been hit with satchel charges. The fuel control system cut the pumps automatically to starve the fires, but that also cuts off fuel to the generators and thrusters." He worked for a moment. "With the pumps off, the fires will be out in a few minutes. After that, I can start them up again, but I'll have to reroute the fuel around the broken pipes manually, one valve at a time."

"Can they take over at one of the other control rooms?" Mira asked.

"There's duplicate controls there, but not an expert engineer," the Zabrak replied. "The control computer's default is to shut the whole system down, because fire is the expected danger. The system isn't meant to deal with a combat situation. I can handle the problem, as long as there's no further damage to the system." He glanced up at Meetra. "So you should probably make sure there's no more damage. I need to stay here for now. Once I have the fuel flowing where it needs to go, I can hand control back to the computer. I'll take that tug we passed and meet you at the docking bays."

Meetra nodded. "Mical, Visas, you're with me. The rest of you, hold this room."

The monorail actually ran along the outside of the station, allowing riders to easily inspect exterior systems like comm antennas, shield emitters, and sensors. The nearest airlock was a few hundred meters down the corridor. Meetra, Mical, and Visas stepped inside and shut the doors. Just as the car started moving, Sith ran past the window. Meetra toggled her comm; there was nothing but static. She swore and hammered on the door as the railcar sped away.

* * *

Mira eyed the catwalks nervously. Zherron had put Dillan and three others into the control room to protect Bao-Dur. The rest of the militia spread out to guard the approaches, with Zherron, Berun, and Suulru each leading a squad. The room was too big for them to really cover each door. The militia had scavenged nearby supply rooms and workshops. They used crates, machine parts, and stacks of pipe to build some cover for themselves on the larger platforms around the control room. They were watching the catwalks for movement, rifles sweeping back and forth. From their position, the doors were small squares in the distance. With Bao-Dur at the console, Mira would be the only Jedi in the fight if the Sith attacked again. She had picked the most likely direction for an attack to come from, but it was a big room, there were a lot of doors, and she didn't like it one bit.

Sure enough, there was movement at the doors. Black dots began moving along the catwalks, turning into Sith troopers as they got closer. Both sides opened fire at around the same time. The defenders had the upper hand; the Sith were totally exposed on the catwalks, and the long, narrow walkways made a perfect bottleneck. Three times the Sith tried to advance, and three times they were driven back. They hadn't gotten within a hundred meters, and the militia were starting to grin at each other. Zherron met Mira's eyes and shook his head grimly.

Two red lightsabers flashed to life in the distance, then began moving slowly closer. The Sith were advancing down the central catwalk, with a pair of black-armored warriors at the head of the column. They blocked the militia's fire, shielding the troopers behind them. Mira took aim and fired a rocket; the airburst took out several troopers but missed the Dark Jedi. She lit her saber and charged onto the walkway, locking blades with the lead Sith. The whole column came to a stop as the warrior tried to force Mira back. She didn't budge at all.

Zherron pumped a fist in the air. "Berun, Suulru, get around them!"

The two squad leaders nodded and got moving, heading down parallel catwalks to flank the Sith. They opened fire; the troopers tried to fight back, but found themselves in a deadly crossfire. With Mira blocking the way forward, the Sith were trapped, with a long, open bridge the only way out. They began falling back, under heavy fire the whole way. Suulru and Berun both split off a couple of militia to fire on the Dark Jedi from the side. The lead warrior was fully engaged with Mira, so the second man had to spin back and forth, trying to cover them both. One of the militia hit him in the shoulder, and the warrior's left arm went limp.

The militiaman whooped, then yelled in surprise and went down. The man next to him spun to see a black shape, then he too was struck dead. Sith assassins had gotten in close by climbing along the underside of the catwalks. The wounded Sith warrior drew on the Force and leaped, soaring through the air to cut down the other pair of militia. The Sith troopers halted their retreat and opened fire, forcing Berun and Suulru to stand and fight. Mira couldn't break out of her duel, but even if she could, she'd never make the jump. The warrior and several assassins headed toward Zherron and his squad. The grizzled militia leader took aim and shot one of the assassins. The rest charged, with the warrior leading the way. Zherron's people drew their blades and braced themselves. The assassins spread out and raised their staves. The Sith warrior was confronted by Zherron alone. The militia captain stood his ground, but even with one arm crippled, the Sith still drove him back. Zherron glanced over his shoulder at the four militia holding the control room, then charged. He parried the warrior's saber upward, then tackled him around the waist and pushed. Both men went over the railing and plummeted to the floor far below.

The remainder of the now-leaderless squad fell back towards the control room. Berun and Suulru's squads had won their fight and were on their way to help, but they were hundreds of meters away. Mira decapitated her opponent and moved to attack the assassins from behind. One group turned to fight her while the others kept pressing. The militia backed up, dangerously close to routing.

There was a low thump, followed by a whir. The sound repeated and grew louder as one after another, the pumps restarted. Bao-Dur stepped out of the control room, drawing his double-blade. He bent his knees and jumped, landing between the militia and the Sith. Now, the assassins were trapped between two Jedi. Mira angled her saber and nodded to Bao-Dur, who went on the offensive with powerful, sweeping attacks. Two of the Sith ran sideways and vaulted over the railings, vanishing out of sight under the platform. The possibility of an attack from behind didn't intimidate Bao-Dur. He kept on coming, forcing the Sith to face him-and turn their backs to Mira, who cut one down. One assassin turned to take her on, while three tried to handle the big Zabrak. Mira traded a few blows with her enemy, then the other two assassins tried to surprise her. The militia opened up, riddling one of the Sith. Mira blasted the other with the Force; he bounced off one of the fuel tanks and fell out of sight. Bao-Dur had killed one of the three Sith on him and the other two were trying to hold him off. One took a big swing, only to have her staff break across Bao-Dur's artificial arm. He kicked her in the stomach; she flew backwards and crashed into the Sith fighting Mira. Mira finished them both before they could recover, then raised her arm and put three darts into the last Sith's back.

The militia regrouped; Berun was shaken, but pulled himself together and got his people organized. Dillan took command of the remnants of Zherron's squad. There weren't enough people left to hold the old positions, so they spread out around the control room. Bao-Dur headed back to the terminal.

Riiken swore quietly. "Only one survivor. Damn. You said the General is on her way?"

Bao-Dur nodded. "On the monorail. She'll be there in a few minutes."

"That's good." Riiken grinned wearily. "I was worried she'd miss all the fun."

* * *

The underside of Citadel Station was a blur of black and grey outside the window. The monorail car was streaking across the station almost as fast as a starship. The inside of the car was too quiet, leaving Meetra with no distraction from her thoughts. She had seen hundreds of Sith heading for Mira and Bao-Dur, and couldn't even warn them. She decided to see how the space battle was going, so she got up and began looking out the windows… _all_ the windows, over and over. To someone else, it might just look like worried pacing.

Mical must have thought so; he grabbed Meetra and pulled her into a tight embrace. "It's going to be all right, Master. They are as prepared as they can be. You trained us well."

"I know, but I'll fret anyway. I'm your Master, and that's my job." Meetra sighed and extricated herself from the hug. "Back to business. We need to clear the last of the Sith, then meet the Mandalorians at the docks and board the _Ravager_."

They all braced themselves as the car began decelerating. The doors opened to an empty, red-lit corridor. The front line had clearly moved through already; Meetra headed toward the final control room. The walls were pockmarked with blaster impacts, and the bodies of Sith and Onderonian soldiers lay here and there. The three Jedi moved quietly, alert for the Sith rear guard. They felt it before they were close enough to see, and slowed to a stop. Meetra gestured, and Visas moved ahead carefully, dropping down to crawl along the floor.

She poked her head around a corner, then pulled back after a second or so. "Master, they didn't see me, but they're expecting an attack. It's a big room, warehouse I think. Open floor for a hundred meters at least, then a platoon behind cover. No way to get close unseen."

"We can handle a platoon easily enough." Mical moved up. "I'm first through the door."

They stacked up, sabers in hand. Mical swung around the corner and immediately came under fire. The Sith tried to bottleneck them in the doorway, but Mical was better than that. Once he was into the room, Meetra and Visas came in behind him. Visas threw her shoto to take out one of the troopers. Meetra moved out from behind Mical, then charged, deflecting fire back at the Sith. Several troopers closed in with blades, but they really had no chance. Meetra downed them in one continuous flurry of attacks, then swept the barricade aside with a Force wave. Mical and Visas arrived to deal with the stragglers. They pushed forward into another corridor, cutting down four Sith assassins who tried to ambush them from a side passage. Another turn, and they emerged into one of the station's power plants. The massive turbines stood in a row, extending far beneath the floor. The Sith were using them for cover, trying to advance toward the last pipeline control room. More Sith were up on the inspection walkways, trying to push through the heavy fire coming from the far end.

Captain Riiken and his soldiers had fought ferociously, making the Sith pay for every step they took towards the control room. Four Sith apprentices were dead on the floor, surrounded by the bodies of more than thirty Onderonians. A Sith Master with a saber in each hand was leading the final assault, supported by an apprentice and a half-dozen assassins. Riiken's unit was down to less than half strength; they were laying down a withering fire with the Lancer carbines. The Sith were pressing hard, trying to finish the job before help arrived. They didn't make it. The Jedi split, Visas and Mical going down the floor while Meetra leapt up to the platforms. The Dark Jedi went after Meetra while the assassins faced her two best students. Mical handled defense while Visas handed out well-timed counters. They held their own, despite being outnumbered three to one. Meetra, needless to say, wasn't about to lose to a single fighting pair. In short order she had killed the apprentice and had the master in an even fight. And that's where the duel bogged down: It was a match between two Form V experts, and a counterattack specialist never wants to make the first move. The two circled, angling their sabers and looking for an opening. They spent what seemed like a long time maneuvering for an advantage. The Sith Master ran out of patience first. He tried lightning, but Meetra deflected it. A push knocked her down, but she threw her shoto from the ground, buying time to get back to her feet. The Master charged, trying to get to Meetra before she could recover her off-hand saber. She switched to a two-hand grip and fought back, struggling to keep both his blades away.

The Master kicked Meetra in the stomach, knocking her over the railing and down to the floor below. One of the assassins tried to finish her, but Visas cut him down. Meetra scrambled to her feet and recovered her shoto. The Sith Master jumped down and smiled confidently. More Dark Jedi ran up behind him, a trio of black-armored warriors with double-blades. Mical finished the last of the assassins and joined Meetra and Visas. Both sides began their opening gambit before the duel began in earnest. Meetra took the one-on-two against a pair of warriors; Mical went after the Sith Master. The Master tried to break Mical's defense with telekinesis, then followed up with a barrage of fast attacks from both hands. Mical stopped the strikes, but had to back up. Visas parried twice, then raised a whirlwind so powerful that her opponent slammed against the ceiling and fell dead. She ran to join Mical. The Sith Master pulled in the fallen warrior's weapon, then took a defensive stance, holding the double-blade and levitating two sabers with the Force.

Visas tossed her shoto, letting it hang in midair. She nodded to Mical and the pair spread apart; the Sith faced two Jedi, with the floating shoto behind him. He kept his three sabers moving, angling to guard all directions. He went after Visas first, thinking to take out two threats simultaneously. Visas blocked and kicked him backwards. She wasn't levitating the shoto-Mical had taken over as soon as the Sith started to move. Now, it flew at the Master from behind, only to be stopped by one of his floating sabers. The Master tried again, but was immediately forced on the defensive a second time. Mical took advantage of the distraction to destroy one of the floating sabers. The Sith pulled the remaining long blade into his off hand and whirled to attack a third time. This time, Visas' shoto nearly took his leg off. He flipped to put both Padawans in front of him and backed away. One of the warriors tried to break out of Meetra's duel to help. Mical cut him off, as Meetra killed the other warrior. She helped Mical finish the last warrior, and they both ran to join Visas against the Master.

The Sith Master snarled defiantly at the three Jedi in front of him. He threw his long blade at Meetra, then pulled in one of the warriors' sabers, taking a stance with a double-blade in each hand. Meetra waved for Visas and Mical to go help the Onderonians; they looked concerned, but obeyed. Meetra launched herself at the Sith Master, raining down blow after blow. Both combatants vanished into a blur of red and blue blades. Meetra had to really work to protect herself; two double-blades made for an extreme number of incoming attacks. But every technique had a weakness, and there was a reason almost no one used this one. Holding a double-blade one-handed was great for a high-speed offense, but you had almost no leverage on defense. Meetra waited for a blade lock, then twisted. One of the Master's sabers went spinning across the room, and Meetra struck at the opening in his guard. He managed to block, but Meetra didn't give him time to recover. She slashed twice, then dropped down for a leg sweep. The Sith jumped, and Meetra blew him across the room. The Master slammed into the wall and Meetra pulled him in for another slam, and another, before letting him fall to the deck.

Meetra caught her breath and took a look around. There were no more Sith in sight. She jogged over to the control room; Riiken was organizing his remaining force while Mical tended to the wounded. He saluted as she walked up. "Good to see you again, General. Thanks for moving so quickly."

"Well fought, Captain." Meetra folded her arms. "Any news from the rest of the station?"

"Looks like we held them," Riiken replied. "Republic troops and allied units have cleared a safe corridor the length of the station. They're clearing the rest one module at a time."

The terminal beeped; it was Brianna. "Master, we've made it through to Nevran. The civilians are being evacuated to the docks."

Meetra smiled. "Well done, you two. We're below you in the mechanical spaces. Head for the old Czerka bay in Docks 126. Mandalore is waiting for us there." She cut the comm and turned to Riiken. "Contact Bao-Dur and tell him to meet me. It's time to board the _Ravager_."

* * *

 **A/N: You can't have a Star Wars story without some lightsaber fights on catwalks and walkways with a pit of doom down below... As always, please review!**


	45. Ravager, part one

**Disclaimer: I didn't create the creepy Dark Side ghost ship.**

* * *

Brianna, Atton, and HK were already in the docking bay when Meetra and her group arrived. The space tug flew in a minute or two later; Bao-Dur and Mira got out, looking beat. Meetra took a deep breath. "All right, everyone. It's nearly over, but we still have one hard fight left before this day is done."

Two Q-carriers flared to a landing in the docking bay. Their ramps dropped; Mandalore stepped out of the nearer one and walked up to Meetra. "It's time, Jedi. The Sith flagship is vulnerable. The allied fleet is pressing their skyward flank hard. All the Interdictors are facing them, and only a pair of destroyers is holding this side. Admiral Onasi has sent the Onderonians to support us; the _Arca Jeth_ and Purple Squadron will escort us in." He chuckled and shook his head. "This is going to take some getting used to."

Meetra smiled, then got serious. "What are your thoughts on the boarding plan?"

"Start with a diversion," Mandalore replied. "Bralor will take four dropships to board amidships, two each side. Those warriors will fight their way to the main launch bay and secure it so the troopship can dock and unload the bulk of the force. They'll bring demolition charges, go after the weapons systems and the main reactor. That will draw off at least some of the defenders. You're with me, and Xarga's platoon. We will dock as close as we can, on either side of the bridge tower one level below the command deck. Cut off the head and the body will die."

"Sounds good," Meetra said. "Atton, Brianna, HK, with me. Mical, take Visas, Bao-Dur, and Mira. You're in command of the other boarding party. I'll meet you in the middle."

Mical made a polite half-bow, then turned and waved to the others. The Jedi separated and boarded the Q-carriers. The beetle-like dropships lifted, pivoted, and glided out of the docking bay. The troopship was just outside, beginning a turn towards the battlecruiser. Further away, the _Arca Jeth_ was recovering her fighters for resupply before the assault. The two larger ships formed up and got underway; the smaller dropships tucked in behind, where they would be better protected. Mandalore beckoned to Meetra and she followed him to the cockpit to observe. Their target was the Ravager, a grey silhouette a thousand kilometers away, surrounded by a cloud of fighters. The ship was turned with its bow to Meetra's right, facing the Republic fleet with its main batteries. It remained scarred from the final battle at Malachor; there were huge holes in the hull and large sections of the ship were exposed to space. The two destroyers were about three hundred kilometers closer, turning bow-on to the incoming assault force. They spread apart in preparation for a torpedo attack.

The Mandalorian troopship accelerated, pulling ahead of the cruiser. Both destroyers fired; with torpedoes coming from both sides, evasive maneuvers would be pointless. The troopship fired concussion missiles and took out all but three of the incoming torps at long range. One angled for the troopship, the other two were heading for the _Jeth_. Admiral Daynar ordered her ship into a hard turn to port, bringing the lateral battery to bear. The guns filled the sky with green streaks and both warheads exploded harmlessly five kilometers out. That left one. The troopship had no rapid-fire guns, but it was Mandalorian. The last torpedo hit the heavy front armor and only left a scorch mark; Mandalore chuckled. The allied ships accelerated, racing to attack before the destroyers could reload their tubes. The _Ravager_ 's fighter wing moved to support the destroyers. The cruiser's Aureks were just coming out the launch tubes, and the two Chelas were already vectoring to intercept. They launched concussion missiles at fifty kilometers, firing until their magazines were empty. The missile volley completely destroyed the two lead squadrons of Sith fighters. The remaining fighters set up to defend the destroyers.

Purple Squadron had different ideas. The Aureks pulled into a tight arrowhead formation and slammed their engines to maximum thrust. The interceptors were caught totally out of position as the Onderonian fighters rocketed through the gap between the two destroyers and headed for the now-uncovered battlecruiser. The Sith fighters turned to pursue, but the Chelas came in behind them. The interceptors got two of the Onderonians before being forced into evasive maneuvers, but ten Aureks got through. They swooped across the big ship's hull, hitting gun turrets, missile launchers, and sensor antennae. The squadron pulled clear to reload tubes, circling back to attack the destroyers from behind as the troopship and cruiser came in from the front. Eight Aureks launched on one destroyer; several solid hits left the ship in flames. The remaining pair took out the second destroyer's shield generator. Without shields, the combined fire of both allied warships hammered the Sith vessel to pieces. The two warships continued on towards the _Ravager_. It was too late for the heavy, slow battlecruiser to turn and bring its main batteries to bear, but it opened up with its broadside, which was still a threat to small warships. The allies returned fire, searching for thin spots in the enemy shields. They split, the troopship diving below the edge of the arrowhead-shaped hull. Four dropships spread out and clamped on to docking ports along the edge of the ship. The troopship took position just outside the launch bay, waiting for the force fields to drop. The _Arca Jeth_ climbed, turning toward the _Ravager_ 's command tower. It fired a full salvo into the tower, drawing the battlecruiser's fire as the last two dropships slipped out from behind the _Jeth_. Mandalore clapped Meetra on the back and led the way aft to prepare for boarding.

* * *

The Q-carrier's troop compartment held eighteen Mandalorian warriors in jump seats along the side walls. As Mandalore entered the rear section, they all stood. He paced up and down the center aisle, speaking in growling, staccato Mando'a. Meetra only understood a word here and there, but she knew a rousing pre-battle speech when she saw one. The warriors were getting pumped up, clenching and unclenching their fists, rolling their shoulders, and bouncing on the balls of their feet. Mandalore stepped up to the warrior at the end of one file and got in his face. The two men snarled at each other, voices rising until finally Mandalore roared a battle cry, leaned back slightly, and delivered a powerful headbutt. The Mandalorians all cheered, and Mandalore moved on to the next man in line, repeating the process with each of his warriors until he'd whipped them into a frenzy.

Mandalore walked up to Meetra, chuckling. "They're ready, Jedi. We're boarding in two minutes. My warriors will take care of the initial breaching action. They've certainly seen us coming by now, and moved to defend the hatches." He smiled. "I've got a little surprise for them."

Meetra nodded and got into position behind Kelborn's squad. The pilot maneuvered them in towards the docking hatch on the side of the Ravager's bridge tower. They didn't attach there; instead, the docking collar mag-locked to the hull in the docking corridor's side wall. The dropship's hatch opened, and two Mandalorian sappers placed charges on the battlecruiser's hull. They stepped back, and a force field sprang into place to contain the blast. The Sith troopers inside had no warning before the hull blew in. The force field dropped, and the repeater gunners cut down the few who'd survived the blast. Mandalore strolled casually through the smoke, looking around at his men's handiwork with an approving nod. "Good work, Kelborn." He turned to Meetra. "What are your orders, Jedi?"

"First, we need to link up with Mical's force coming from the other side," Meetra replied. "Then, we start fighting our way up."

She took the lead, headed deeper into the ship. Her companions followed as the Mandalorians covered the side passages. The _Ravager_ looked exactly as it had when Meetra had abandoned ship after the mass shadow detonation. The hallways were dark and empty; emergency lighting flickered on and off. Most of the ship was uninhabitable, but the command tower still had life support, along with sections of the engine decks and launch bay. This was a ghost ship; the dark side pressed in all around, clouding Meetra's perception. A turn in the corridor and she came under fire. Meetra deflected the shots, but the Sith troopers tossed a concussion grenade and retreated, firing as they went. Meetra moved ahead cautiously. The passageway opened into a mid-sized room, with thirty or more Sith lying in wait. Atton and Handmaiden came up on Meetra's left side, and they advanced into the fray. A door on the far side slid open, and Mical appeared, leading his team. The Sith held their ground to the last man, but they were overwhelmed quickly.

When the last trooper fell, Mandalore waved for a halt and clicked his comm. "Bralor, report."

" _Mand'alor_ , we are advancing aft toward our objectives," Bralor replied. "The Sith appear to be offering little resistance… it's like they don't even realize we're here."

"It may be an ambush-remain on your guard." Mandalore chuckled and shook his head. "I'm fretting like an old woman! You know what to do, Bralor. _K'oyacyi_." He turned back to Meetra. "All right, now we're linked up. Where are we, and how do we get to the bridge?"

"This is one of the assembly areas for the ship's naval infantry complement," Meetra replied. "Bridge is one level above us, at the forward end of the command deck. Fastest way up would be the turbolifts, but we could only fit a small group in each car. Emergency ladderways on this ship run parallel to the turbolift shafts, but they're narrow too, the Sith could bottleneck us at the top."

Bao-Dur smiled. "Split us up. There's plenty of lifts in this tower. Each Jedi takes a small team of Mandalorians; we Jedi will use the ladder and keep the defenders busy until the Mandalorians arrive in the elevators."

"I like it." Meetra scratched her head. "All right. The command deck is designed to be easy to defend in case the ship is boarded. The lifts and ladders all come up in the aft half of the deck, in the junior officers' quarters. The passageways forward all converge in one large room. It's used for ceremonies, large assemblies, and the like, but in combat, it makes a great place for a defensive position. They'll try to stop us there. On the far side are a lot of command and control spaces, senior officers' quarters, and then the bridge itself." She turned to Mandalore. "Six of your warriors go with each of my students; you and HK are with me."

Mandalore hammered his fist on his chest plate. "By your command." He turned and pointed his men to their places. The boarding party separated and began moving through the hallways. The Sith defenders were faced with seven teams of elite fighters advancing toward the bridge.

Mandalore let Meetra push down the corridor; he and HK followed about five meters back, clearing any doors off the hall. There were small groups of troopers here and there, but no really heavy resistance. Some of the Sith actually ran at the sight of Jedi. This made for fast moving, but Mandalore was uneasy; he suspected the Sith were stalling for time, trying to regroup for a defensive stand further in. Up ahead, Meetra was moving quickly but cautiously, sabers angled to defend from any direction. She took one step around a corner, then dove back as a torrent of blaster fire ripped through the hallway. A Sith squad had set up a heavy repeater behind a half-closed blast door at the end of the hall; the fire was too intense to block.

"We'll handle this." Mandalore grabbed the back of Meetra's robes and dragged her out of the way, then flattened himself against the corner; HK stepped up next to him. Mandalore pulled out a grenade. "Remember, hit the gun, not the gunner."

"Indignant response: Mandalorian, I am a droid. As long as I am properly maintained, I don't forget anything." HK raised his rifle. "Unnecessary addendum: I don't miss, either."

Mandalore chuckled and threw the frag. It rattled off the floor and exploded just in front of the blast door. HK swung out and fired once. The shot struck the repeater's firing chamber, and the heavy gun exploded, killing one of its crew and wounding the other. The rest of the squad tried to pin Meetra with rifle fire, but she scattered them with a push and dove through the opening. HK ran to the door and forced it fully open so Mandalore could get through. He arrived as Meetra finished the last of the Sith. Mandalore saw the air ripple behind her and shouted for Meetra to duck. She threw herself flat and Mandalore laid down ten seconds of continuous fire, sweeping his repeater back and forth. Several assassins decloaked and fell dead. HK spun and discharged his flamethrower behind them, killing four more. Meetra got up and nodded her thanks, then Mandalore's comm beeped.

" _Ni ceta, Mand'alor_." Bralor sounded mortified. "My force was attacked by cloaked Sith assassins in the engine room. Our demolitions gear has been destroyed. We cannot sabotage the main reactor, _Mand'alor_. We... have failed you. I offer you my..."

"Stop." Mandalore shook his head angrily. "This isn't over. The reactor was a secondary objective. You've still drawn off the Sith. Have your other units hit the turbolaser batteries. Your priority is to hold the Sith forces there, keep them from reinforcing the tower. And don't kill yourself before I tell you, _tayli'bac_?"

"As you command, _Mand'alor_ ," Bralor replied. "I will secure and hold the entrances to the upper levels."

"Good hunting." Mandalore cut the comm and hefted his repeater. "Lead the way, Surik."

* * *

It was a short walk to the assembly hall. It was a large, arena-like room, vaulted ceiling above an open floor. The Sith were waiting: at least a dozen Dark Jedi and well over a hundred troopers, all wearing personal shields to protect themselves from blaster fire. As Meetra strode forward, the other teams arrived from side doors. The Jedi formed up in line: Meetra in the center, Mical and Visas on either side of her, Atton and Brianna on the right flank, and Mira and Bao-Dur holding the left. They dropped into combat stances, and in that moment, Mandalore knew the Sith didn't stand a chance. Meetra didn't have to speak an order. All seven Jedi extended their arms forward and threw a simultaneous push. Ordinarily, telekinesis didn't make much sound, just a small whoosh of rushing air. This was not an ordinary Force push. The blast tore through the room, making a visible ripple in the metal of the floor, walls, and ceiling, accompanied by a thunderous noise. The Dark Jedi were hurled backwards, crashing into the troopers, and the front ranks went down in a heap. Meetra didn't give them a chance to recover. She lit her sabers and whirled them overhead. "For the Republic!"

The Jedi charged; the Mandalorians drew their _beskade_ and followed, shouting battle cries. They slammed into the enemy in a clash of blades, and the Sith line wavered. The Jedi pushed forward, and the line buckled. A Dark Jedi Master slashed at Meetra; Mical blocked the strike, and Meetra finished him off. Two assassins came at them from behind, but Visas was there, parrying and then cutting them down. Brianna and Atton had were dueling three Sith and had the upper hand. Bao-Dur smashed his fist into the deck, staggering his opponent. Mira finished the Sith off, then fired an explosive rocket into the mass of troopers. Xarga and a squad rushed into the gap she made, splitting the Sith formation in two. They encircled the smaller group and wiped it out. There were only three Dark Jedi Masters left alive now; Meetra, Mical, and Visas were handling them while the others moved to help the Mandalorians mop up.

When the last Sith fell, the Mandalorians raised a hearty cheer. Mandalore stepped up to Meetra and tapped his fist against his chest plate. "What are your orders, Jedi?"

"Only a few small rooms between here and the bridge," Meetra replied. "Have Xarga hold this position. You and HK come with us."

As Mandalore turned to give the orders, Meetra took a moment to check on her students. They were all banged up and tired, but they were still fit to fight. They left the Mandalorians to secure the room and headed forward. The last obstacle before the bridge was a cluster of small rooms, including the sensor and gunnery control spaces, Combat Information Center, and senior officers' quarters. Every single blast door had been closed and sealed with force fields. Between their lightsabers and Bao-Dur's arm, they made quick work of the barriers and dealt with the small groups of Sith holdouts they came across. Meetra reached the door to the CIC and burned the lock. The door opened to reveal a single figure at the center console, just a silhouette in the dim combat lighting.

"Stop there, Jedi." The voice was distorted, hoarse… and full of hate. He had his hand on a control on the command console. "Your Mandalorians may have disabled the missile launchers, but I can trigger the warheads from here." He half-turned, revealing a terribly corrupted face. His eyes were sunken in, his cheeks were gaunt, and his skin was deathly pale. He looked like a skeleton with skin. "Have you come to kill me? The final insult, stripping Onderon, my soldiers, my home from me, only to have me die here. If I am to die, it will not be alone."

Meetra's eyes widened. "Tobin? What happened to you?"

The former colonel shook his head. "He happened-the hunger that fills this vessel, it is power, but it consumes without end. It is that power we felt on Onderon, that Vaklu felt… it was an echo, too strong to ignore. General Vaklu and I… when it seemed that we would need more to take Onderon, make it strong again… he came. With his power, his soldiers, it seemed as if there was nothing we could not do-nothing the Queen could do to stop us." His face twisted. "You will not stop us either. This ship, it moves, it exists, because he wills it so. He tore it from the mass shadows of Malachor, along with his fleet. That is a measure of his power."

"Malachor… I think he is of that place," said Visas. "If so, then his power may be great indeed, greater than I had thought."

"I don't need to do anything-you are already doomed." Tobin took his hand off the switch. "Against him, you are dust motes in a storm, a grain upon the beach, and as insignificant as a body that orbits the graveyard of Malachor. Fight him if you will, but if he turns his power upon you, you will be destroyed. He will feed on this world, and when the Republic fleet is destroyed, we will return to Onderon, and Talia will fall." He smiled ghoulishly. "I told him, you know… what the old woman told me. I told him of the Academy here, of the Jedi here. They will make a hearty meal."

"But there's nothing here," Bao-Dur said. "Telos is a near-dead world."

Tobin glared at him. "You think to lie to me still? I will not be deceived again."

"It is Kreia who has deceived you," Brianna said coldly. "The hidden Academy has been all but empty for years; the only Jedi in this system are here in this room."

"Kreia wanted Nihilus to come here." Mical's eyes widened. "Visas, what will happen if he tries to feed, with so little life on this world?"

"If there are no Jedi here, then he cannot feed his hunger," the Miraluka replied. "He will destroy the planet, the station… he will cleanse it of life, but it will not be enough."

Meetra's mouth opened as she understood. "He has to draw on his power to feed. The hunger will turn on him, and we will have a chance."

"And if you fail, what then?" Tobin snapped. "Your old woman has killed this planet, and with it, countless other worlds that depend on its survival."

Atton crossed his arms. "You should have thought of that before you signed on with a Sith Lord. If he kills us, Nihilus will still be exhausted, desperate to feed… and where will he go?"

The question was rhetorical, but Mira answered it anyway. "Onderon, nice and close, a planet and four moons teeming with life."

Tobin's mouth fell open in shock. "No, no, he would not betray his allies so cruelly."

"Cruelty and betrayal are the way of the Sith," Visas said quietly.

"Nihilus will think of nothing but sating his hunger," Meetra continued harshly. "The blood of Freedon Nadd runs through the people of Onderon. They will make a hearty meal."

"I will not allow it." Tobin drew himself up, the proud soldier showing through the corrupted husk of a man. "I will destroy this ship and him with it. Go, Jedi. Get your people out of here."

Bao-Dur shook his head. "You can't blow the _Ravager_ now. It's too close to Telos; the debris would be pulled in and collide with Citadel Station."

Tobin reached for the detonation control, then stopped. "If you get to the bridge, you can program a course away from the planet. But to do that, you must defeat him." He met Meetra's eyes. "I will protect my home at _any_ cost, Jedi. And I will not wait forever."

Meetra gave him a grim look. "Thank you, Colonel." They moved on, leaving Tobin alone at the console.

Beyond the CIC, the command deck was another maze of hallways, with the larger officers' cabins opening off both sides. They encountered one group of Sith trying to hold a blast door, but broke through without trouble. They were almost to the final door when Visas waved for a halt.

"This door leads to my… cell. I had forgotten." Visas' voice was shaking slightly. "If there is time, I would like to center myself. There is a meditation chamber within my cell that I would visit one last time."

Meetra nodded. "We can spare a few moments."

Visas bowed, then turned and walked through the door. She went deeper inside, the floor beneath her changing from metal to stone. The room was a Miraluka shrine, torn from Visas' homeworld and built into the suite which had been her prison. She walked to the center of the room and knelt. Visas breathed slow and deep. "Past the surface, there is the Force." The whispers started. She had never been truly sure whether they were part of the shrine, or within her. It didn't matter; she was here to make her peace with them. "Where once there was a world strong in the Force, now there is a barren wasteland. It has taken time for me to return here. I lost my way, but I've been stronger for the journey." Visas had once felt as if the voices were accusing; now, they brought her comfort. "What happens now shall not be done out of hate, or revenge, but for the sake of all life." She took a deep breath. "And I ask you, finally, to forgive me."

As Visas stood, the whispers faded away. She smiled gratefully, then walked back out to the others. "This body is a prison no longer."

Meetra reached out and squeezed Visas' shoulder, then turned to the others. "Visas and I will go on. The rest of you, return to the transport."

"What?" Mical asked, stunned. "Why, Master?"

Meetra pursed her lips. "As you said, Visas needs to face him."

Mical shook his head disbelievingly. "What about us? You trained us, Master, don't you trust us?"

Meetra smiled kindly. "You're staying behind because of how _much_ I trust you."

"I don't understand," Mical said, frowning.

Meetra stepped close and kissed him. "If Nihilus kills us, you have to get away before Tobin destroys the ship. The Jedi must not end here. If anything happens to me, Mical, it will fall to you to lead the others and rebuild the Order."

Mical's mouth opened and shut several times, but no sound came out. He swallowed hard, bowed low, and led the others away. Meetra allowed herself three seconds of looking after them, then she and Visas turned and walked onto the bridge.

* * *

 **A/N: Mandalore's 'pregame' ritual is based on Tom Brady's habit of headbutting his teammates.**


	46. Ravager, part two

**Disclaimer: I definitely didn't come up with the soul-sucking Sith Lord who eats planets.**

* * *

Meetra bit her lip as she stepped through the heavy door. She had tried to prepare herself from the moment she'd seen the _Ravager_ in the distance, but she still felt a rush of emotion. The panoramic windows were still broken, jagged pieces of transparisteel jutting out of the framing; the room was kept airtight by particle fields. The bridge crew was all corrupted like Tobin, bent over their consoles down in the trenches, not speaking a word. Down at the far end of the command platform, a tall, black-robed figure was looking out the window. His presence in the Force was ice-cold and hungry, like Meetra's wound. And he was powerful- _immensely_ so. Meetra glanced at Visas. The Miraluka was visibly trembling, struggling to control her fear. Meetra reached to take her hand, but Visas jerked it away. She interlaced her fingers in front of her, palms up, and took a single deep breath. She exhaled slowly, then nodded. Meetra took the lead with Visas trailing on her left side. They were only a few steps away when Darth Nihilus moved slightly. He turned to face them, face hidden behind a white, skull-like mask. Suddenly, Meetra and Visas couldn't move.

"No… do not harm her." Visas was struggling to speak despite the paralysis that held her. "I am the one who has betrayed you. I am the one who should suffer. I will return to you, but please, do not harm her, do not what you did to me… I beg you."

"He won't hurt you, Visas." Meetra concentrated, broke out of the paralysis, and drew her lightsabers, staring Nihilus down. "Not her, not Telos, not anyone. They are under my protection, and your battle is with me."

The Lord of Hunger let out a rasping growl, then blew Visas backwards. She hit and slid down the length of the command platform. Meetra chanced a quick glance over her shoulder; Visas had gotten back to her feet, but she just stood there, frozen. Meetra turned back to glare at Nihilus. The Sith Lord spoke a question; Meetra didn't recognize the language, but somehow, she understood him. "Kreia has lied to you-there are no Jedi here. You have sensed it."

Nihilus angled his head slightly, then took a deep breath. Meetra felt him drawing the very life out of her. She grew weaker and his power surged, but then her wound pulled _back_. Nihilus used more and more power trying to keep what he had taken before staggering backwards.

The problem was, with his strength diminished, Darth Nihilus had only been reduced from a being that consumed worlds to an extremely powerful Sith Lord. He drew a red lightsaber and swung shoulder-high. Meetra parried and countered with an off-hand strike at the legs. Nihilus stopped her with a tremendous grip, then lifted Meetra into the air and slammed her to the deck. Meetra had the wind knocked out of her; Nihilus raised her back up and kicked her in the ribs, sending her tumbling across the floor. Meetra kick-flipped to her feet and whirled her sabers to an attack stance, then ran in again. She raised her blades for a cross slash; Nihilus moved to block. Meetra blurred to her right and sliced at his off-hand side. He tossed the saber to his left hand and parried her off-balance. Meetra had to leap backwards to keep from losing a leg. She landed in the middle of a Force whirlwind, spun, and hit the deck hard. The Sith Lord hurled a blast of electricity before she could get to her feet.

Visas jumped between Meetra and Nihilus, caught the bolt, and sent it back at him. "Forgive me, Master. I will not abandon you again."

Nihilus snarled and rushed his former slave. Visas parried frantically, retreating down the platform as the Sith Lord advanced. Meetra charged after him; he spun and knocked her flying into one of the operations trenches. Visas fended him off desperately, using both sabers to stop each strike. Nihilus caught her in a grip, legs dangling as he choked her. Meetra launched herself out of the trench, sabers converging on both sides of his throat. Nihilus swung Visas around and threw her. Meetra doused her sabers in time, but the Miraluka crashed into her. They landed in a tangle, Visas' sabers rolling away across the deck. Nihilus approached at a slow walk. Meetra scrambled up and went after him again, blasting a push ahead of her. The Force attack barely ruffled his cloak, and he stopped her blades easily, then shoved her back. Meetra stood her ground, breathing heavily. Nihilus just stood waiting, arms at his sides.

"He, is too powerful, he…" Visas rolled to her hands and knees and began crawling towards her sabers. "I can stop him, I can end this. He and I share a bond."

Meetra's eyes went wide as she realized what Visas meant. "Don't do it! There is another way, there has to be!"

Visas just kept crawling. "It is what must be done, my Master. My life for yours. Yours, and the others, and Telos. This is what it means to be a Jedi."

Darth Nihilus ran past Meetra and kicked Visas away from her weapons. He grabbed the back of her robes and picked her up. Visas struggled and hit him right in the face, accomplishing little other than bruising her fist on the mask. Nihilus bent down, hissing into her ear. Visas grabbed his saber arm and tried to twist the blade through them both. They were standing at the exact spot where Ree had died.

"No. Not again." Meetra grit her teeth, dug deep, and blasted them apart with a Force wave. "I'm not losing anyone else." Nihilus was ten meters away; it took Meetra less than half a second to close the distance. He stopped her sabers, but not the full-force front kick. The Sith Lord was rocked back, but kept his feet. Meetra dashed in, too fast to see, and unleashed a continuous flurry of attacks. Ten strikes. Twenty. Fifty. Nihilus was totally on the defensive, and Meetra didn't stop her furious onslaught. Nihilus roared, gripped her with the Force and threw her back. Meetra landed on her feet, spinning her sabers to a ready position.

"My life is yours no longer." Visas' sabers clicked against the deck as she pulled them in. She strode forward, and her body language had changed. "Our bond is broken. I have mastered the fear which made me your slave." Nihilus actually staggered; Visas bowed to him. "I have done as you commanded. I sought out the echo in the Force, and I have brought her here." She fell to her knees, gasping for air. "I have weakened him as much as I can, Master. The rest is up to you."

Meetra nodded and advanced on Nihilus. He seized her with the Force and lifted her off the floor. His grip was far weaker than it had been, and she was able to break free. She dropped the half-meter to the deck, landed lightly, and charged. They locked sabers and pushed; Nihilus lost, stumbling back several meters. He changed tactics, or abandoned them altogether. He snarled and came at her with powerful, brutish swings. Meetra could block them, but the impact was tremendous. She got in several counterstrikes, but Nihilus kept coming, heedless of his injuries. He brought his saber down from overhead, and when Meetra stopped it, something cracked. Adrenaline covered the pain, but she couldn't make her left arm work properly. Nihilus knocked her shoto away and struck at the gap in her guard. Meetra tried to spin out of the way, but he took a chunk of flesh out of her left side. She screamed and Nihilus kicked her right in the saber burn. Meetra staggered backwards, clutching her side. Nihilus didn't follow up; both combatants stood there, bleeding, trying to get up the strength for one more clash. Nihilus took a two-handed grip and set his feet. Meetra turned sideways and raised her saber in the one-handed variant of Form II. Nihilus advanced with more big sweeps, which Meetra parried with difficulty. His attacks became more and more forceful; Meetra couldn't stop them one-handed, and had to back up. Nihilus roared and swung downward again. Meetra hopped back out of the way, then lunged off her back foot, driving her blade all the way through him. Darth Nihilus hissed in pain, then stumbled away, towards the panoramic windows. He took three or four steps, then slowly fell, landing on his back in the center of the deck. There was no explosion, no cheering. The battle simply ended, and it was quiet.

Visas pulled herself to her feet. "I need to see." She crossed the deck, knelt beside the fallen Sith Lord, and removed his mask. She bent down, seemingly gazing into the dead man's face. Meetra stood silently, watching from a distance. After a time, the Miraluka stood. She dropped the mask on the deck and stamped down, shattering it before walking back to Meetra. Behind her, Nihilus' corpse dissolved into black mist.

"What did you see?" Meetra asked.

"I saw a graveyard world, surrounded by a fleet of dead ships," Visas replied. "I felt it through him… as I feel it through you. It is where you must go, and I know you mean to go alone. Master, you must take us with you. You need the help, and we have earned that much."

Meetra smiled, nodded, then groaned. Everything hurt. Her left forearm was badly swollen, and looked slightly bent. Her medpac was in a pouch on her left hip; she tried to reach awkwardly across her body before Visas stopped her. The younger woman retrieved a spray injector and gave Meetra a shot for the pain. Meetra ran to the helm console and turned the cruiser on a heading away from Telos. She and Visas supported each other as they headed for the dropship. In five minutes, they were getting aboard. The hatch closed, and the Q-carrier started pulling clear.

Meetra's comm chirped. "I felt the ship turning. Is it done, Jedi?" Tobin's voice was faint, fading.

"It's done, Colonel," Meetra replied.

"One last duty, then. Please tell General Vaklu that I wish I could have died at his side. And the Queen… I hope that she is right." The comm cut out; explosions blossomed at several points along the _Ravager_ 's hull. The ship was blasted into several large fragments, which continued moving, drifting off into the dark of space.

* * *

No one spoke aboard the dropship. Everyone was too exhausted. The trip was largely spent tending the wounded; Mical patched Meetra up, but she'd need kolto for full recovery. The Mandalorian pilot flared to a landing in one of the Republic Navy docking bays, between the _Hawk_ and a picket ship. Lieutenant Grenn was waiting just outside the hatch. "General Surik? Admiral Onasi wanted to speak with you, sir."

Meetra cocked her head. "What about?"

"As I understand it, there was something private he wanted to ask you. Concerning a 'mutual acquaintance,' I believe, is how he put it."

Meetra nodded and pointed to Atton and Bao-Dur. "I want to leave as soon as possible. Get the ship fully fueled and contact me the moment you're ready for takeoff. Our destination is Malachor V." She turned and followed Grenn.

Atton rubbed his hands together. "You heard the lady. Let's get moving."

The crew began the work of connecting hoses; Mical heard a familiar voice calling his name. He turned to see a middle-aged, bald black man in the armor of a Navy commander. His jaw dropped. "Commander Wann?"

Roland Wann crossed his arms. "We need to talk."

Grenn led Meetra from the docks into the administrative section of the base. The Admiral's office was on the top level of the module tower, with a large picture window overlooking the base, with Telos filling most of the background, and the sun rising beyond. The man waiting inside was just under two meters tall, with brown hair just starting to turn grey, and a full beard. "It's a little beat up, but it's still home. I wasn't able to be here to protect it when the Sith attacked the first time. This time, you gave me a second chance. I owe you." He shook his head and chuckled. "Too tired for manners. I'm Admiral Onasi, but I much prefer Carth."

He indicated a small seating area, the coffee table holding two mugs and a pot. Meetra sat down. "Grenn said you wanted to speak to me about a mutual acquaintance."

The admiral sat down, pouring coffee for both of them. "I've read your records, how the Jedi sentenced you. For doing what you believed. You wandered past the Outer Rim during your exile. I ask you… did you find any trace of Revan?"

"No, I never saw him again," Meetra replied sadly.

Carth nodded resignedly. "I served with him, like you did. And we had to part ways, like you did."

Meetra sipped her coffee-it was _wonderful_ , to just sit a moment, but it couldn't last. "What happened to him?"

"He said that there were places he had to walk where I could not go," Carth replied. "Places where having allies, or anyone he cared about, would only place them in danger. It's been four years, and I still don't know what happened to him."

Meetra leaned forward earnestly. "You cannot give up hope."

Carth lifted his own cup, then looked at it, shrugged, and set it down again. "He told me to stay here, to try to keep the Republic strong, and that he would return. It was the hardest request I ever had to follow."

"Why didn't he stay himself?" asked Meetra.

"He said that he believed something had been behind the Mandalorian Wars," Carth said. "That it hadn't been the Mandalorians' choice to attack the Republic. Whatever it was, I think he went off to find it, to fight it."

Meetra pursed her lips. "You said you served with Revan?"

Carth smiled and leaned back in his seat. "It was near the end of the Jedi Civil War, when it seemed like we were going to lose everything. We met aboard a Republic warship, called the _Endar Spire_. It was being attacked over Taris, and the Sith had stormed the ship…"

He spoke for a long time, telling the story. How he'd met 'Jace Kilraen' in the last escape pod to leave the burning cruiser. How they'd hidden from the Sith, found new friends, and rescued Bastila. Fleeing the planet just before the Sith burned it. Their time on Dantooine, and the search for the Star Maps. How he and Jace had learned the horrible truth which Bastila had kept from them both, even as she'd fallen in love with the mind-wiped Revan. How they'd found the Star Forge, and Revan had rescued the woman he loved, then defeated Malak. Meetra sat and listened intently, almost mesmerized by the tale.

"…We saved the Republic," Carth concluded. "But it was like the war didn't end for him. He would keep remembering things that he'd done, and it kept driving him. And I think he finally remembered something terrible that he'd done during the Mandalorian Wars. And he went to put an end to it. He left a lot of people who cared for him behind. But I think he did it because he thought it was the right thing to do. But whatever he set out to do, I… I don't think he succeeded. And here you return, with his ship, without him."

Meetra's eyes widened. "Revan's ship?"

Carth nodded. "Yes. Wherever he went, your ship's been there."

Meetra sat back in her chair, pieces clicking into place in her mind. She had almost forgotten the message from Bastila stored in T3's memory. And there was the voice-locked navicomputer, preventing anyone from discovering the _Hawk_ 's flight logs. T3 had come looking for help… _for Revan_. And he could take her to him…

Meetra was snapped out of her contemplation by her comm buzzing. She glanced down, saw that it was Atton calling, and realized that she'd been listening for more than two hours. She also realized that the ship should have been fueled much sooner. "Admiral, my crew is waiting. Every minute that goes by, Kreia gets further away. I'm glad you told me this, but you've been stalling me. Why?"

"Because you're not alone," Carth replied. "There's a group of Jedi still alive. They were under orders from the Masters to remain hidden from you, a sort of fail-safe. They're on this station right now-they want to talk to you."

Meetra felt a mix of soaring hope and sinking dread. _What do they believe about me? Will they take me back? Will they accept my students?_ "I'm glad to hear that, but I cannot spare the time. I need to take off-now." She got up to leave. "I would be glad to meet them when I return."

Carth sighed. "If I can't convince you… Do what you think is right; that's what Revan did, too. And if you ever find him, tell him Admiral Onasi is following his orders."

They shook hands, and Meetra took her leave. Carth turned back to the window. "Safe journey, exile."

Meetra walked into the docking bay to find Mandalore waiting at the bottom of the ramp. "This is where I must leave you, Surik. Malachor is still taboo to my people. But before I go, it's time I told you my story. I'm sure Carth mentioned me, when he told you the story."

Meetra smiled. "You're Canderous Ordo."

"Yes, I am," he replied. "I traveled with Revan on his quest for the Star Forge. He told me that the Mandalorian Wars had been my people's doom, and that we had been deceived. That it had never been our decision to wage war on the Republic. We were tricked, our entire people sacrificed as pawns, and never knew it. He said there was a war coming. That it was waiting out in the Unknown Regions, in the dark, waiting for us to destroy each other. He told me where I could find the mask of Mandalore, and told me to assemble the clans. When the time comes, Revan will have an army at his back."

Meetra smiled and shook Mandalore's hand. "Goodbye, Mandalore. May the Force be with you."

"I don't need it," he replied, turning away. "I'm Mandalorian."

Meetra boarded the _Hawk_ ; Atton lifted them off and cleared the hangar, then went to max throttle on a vector to the edge of Telos' gravity well. They jumped to hyperspace, headed for Malachor V.

Carth Onasi stood at the window, watching the civilians returning to the station. The door opened.

"Did she know?" Bastila asked, coming up behind Carth.

He shook his head. "No, she didn't."

"There are times I fear we shall never know why he left, Carth." Bastila joined him at the window. "And I cannot live not knowing the answer, why he sought to protect us."

"You know why," Carth said forcefully. "He loved us-you, me, Vaner, the others-and he loved the Republic too. He wanted us safe, but he couldn't ignore the threat, and he thought he was the only one who could stop it. He asked us to stay, to keep the Republic safe. It was important to him." The _Ebon Hawk_ passed by the window, headed for its jump point. Carth watched the engines fade into the distance. "And after meeting the exile, I'm convinced there are worse things to lose in the galaxy."

* * *

Meetra walked from the cockpit back into the main hold. Her Padawans were waiting for her, faces locked in a sort of agitated joy. Mical spoke first. "Master, while you were gone, I spoke to my handler with Republic Intelligence. He told me-"

"That there are other Jedi alive, and they are waiting for us," Meetra finished, smiling. "Admiral Onasi told me."

"It's more than that," Mical said. "They've been with us the whole time! They stopped another mercenary group on Dantooine, set to flank us from the south. And they were on Onderon, helping the Navy with their landing operation. Without them taking out Vaklu's artillery, you would never have reached the Queen in time."

Brianna shook her head. "Why didn't they contact us-why didn't they contact Atris?"

"Because the Masters told them not to," Atton said darkly. "They didn't trust anyone, and Atris was hiding from them, too."

Mira shrugged. "There was something after them, and they didn't know what. It's understandable-and it's lucky they didn't tell Atris." She rubbed the back of her neck. "When Master Zez-Kai first hired me, to set up a safehouse in the Refugee Sector, he only told me he was on the run. He didn't tell me he was a Jedi until you arrived, Master. I've wondered if he knew I was Force Sensitive."

"Probably." Mical chuckled. "Jedi do believe in destiny over coincidence, but we're not above helping destiny along when we can." He looked to Meetra. "They will be at the Enclave, when we are ready."

"We'll go back, when our task is done." Meetra took a deep breath. "We defeated Nihilus and saved Telos, but it will all be for nothing if Kreia succeeds. We stop Kreia, and then we can go home, and start rebuilding the galaxy. That's what we're fighting for."

The crew separated and headed to the dormitories for the night. Meetra tossed and turned in her bunk for an hour or two, then gave up and went looking for something to occupy her mind. She heard a noise from the garage and headed that way. Bao-Dur was at the workstation, tinkering with his remote. Meetra smiled ruefully. "You can't sleep either?"

"I dreamt of Malachor," Bao-Dur said. "I remember the battle so clearly. The two fleets were massive; the stars were flickering from all the ships passing in front. The fighters met in the middle, and the space around the planet was full of little flashes of light. Then missiles and torpedoes, and the big ships started firing. The Mandalorians closed in to board, like they always did. I remember watching the battle, waiting for the order to light the weapon. You were up on the platform, you and Commander Doneeta. Revan gave you firing authority, and you hesitated. You were looking for a way out, I could see it on your face. The battle just got worse the longer it lasted-there were so many ships destroyed, so much debris, you couldn't see the stars at all. I remember the look you had when you turned to me. It was the longest you ever looked at me. You didn't say anything-just a nod." He looked down at his mechanical hand, flexing his fingers. "Events move quickly then, even in my dreams. I remember the light first of all-that green light that was so bright you could see it with your eyes shut. The sound of the hull buckling, the windows shattering. The computer bank behind me collapsed and I was pinned. I could feel the pain around me. I saw the commander being pulled out, I reached for the particle field control… and my arm was gone."

Meetra grabbed Bao-Dur's shoulders and turned him to face her. "It's not your fault. I was in command, and Ree was my Padawan. I am the one responsible for Malachor. I have had ten years to think about it, and I more than ever, I believe I made the only decision I could. While I was in the cave on Korriban, I had to face the question: would I do it all again? My answer is yes."

"I created the mass shadow generator, and you ordered its use." Bao-Dur shook his head. "Neither of us realized the magnitude of what we unleashed."

* * *

 **A/N: In-game, your party for the confrontation with Darth Nihilus is Visas and Mandalore. He didn't belong in that fight. Even though Meetra is the one to defeat Nihilus, it's Visas' moment-she had to confront her former Lord just as Luke had to face Vader.**


	47. Malachor, part one

**Disclaimer: I didn't create the nightmare twisted (but undeniably cool) planet.**

* * *

Atton had to drop out of hyperspace in deep space, beyond the edge of the system. Malachor had always been a tricky place to navigate due to intense gravitic distortions throughout the system. That's why Revan had laid his trap there: it was difficult to leave quickly. Malachor V was the outermost planet, and Atton approached slowly and cautiously. Meetra took the copilot's seat with Bao-Dur sitting behind her. As they drew closer, he grabbed her shoulder. "Master…"

"I see it," Meetra breathed.

The planet was smaller than it had been, partially imploded by the mass shadow generator. Even at this distance, the Force was twisting Meetra's stomach. What had once been a lush, life-supporting world now looked like a misshapen piece of lava rock. The terrain was nightmarish, with razor-sharp mountain ranges and deep crevasses separating fields of crushed rock and boulders. Instead of puffy white clouds, Malachor was wreathed in what looked like dark grey smoke flickering with lightning: ash and volcanic gases, rising from fissures in the surface. Above that was the debris field, a hundred kilometers thick, the remnants of warships and fighters along with fragments of Malachor's shattered moon. Vivid green energy crackled through the field, causing the debris to shift and ripple like chunks of ice on a river.

"It's the mass shadows, Atton," Meetra said, amazed. "The generator is still active!"

The pilot nodded. "I'll take us in."

They began their approach. Atton took it easy, finding the largest gaps between the debris. They were just banking around what was left of a Mandalorian dreadnaught when the ship was slammed upwards. Atton corrected, and then they were slammed again, this time to the left. As the ship tumbled out of control, Meetra caught a glimpse of a flickering green light out the window. Atton angled the ship and accelerated, using the greater gravity of the planet itself to pull them clear of the wandering mass shadow. Another one lit ahead of them, pulling two frigates together and closing a gap. Atton pulled up sharply, breaking clear just as the hulks collided and sent shrapnel rattling off the hull. The freighter stabilized for a moment, then swerved and went into a clockwise spin. Atton swore and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Bao-Dur, rig the ship for collision. I'm doing my best, but this crazy gravity is throwing us around like a leaf on the wind!"

The Zabrak nodded and went to work at the systems console. An alarm sounded, and the bulkhead doors closed, separating the ship into sealed compartments. They twisted and turned through the deadly maze. As they approached the planet, the field began to clear. After a few more near misses, the _Hawk_ passed through the field's inner boundary and began its descent toward the surface.

Atton moistened his lips. "Where do I land us?"

In her mind's eye, Meetra saw a red-lit platform suspended over a bottomless pit, with sharp columns rising like talons, and a cloaked figure kneeling in the center. Kreia was waiting. "There." Meetra pointed to a mountain range. "She's down there."

They had a few minutes of clear flying, then the freighter descended into the clouds. Visibility dropped to a few kilometers. The electrical activity rendered the sensors useless. And they were flying into the mountains. Atton reduced speed, trying to give himself time to avoid the mountaintops as they loomed out of the clouds. It was a good idea, but the peak they hit was beneath the ship, out of the pilot's field of view. The impact shook the entire freighter and started the ship swerving to the right. Atton fought for control but they struck a mountainside and plunged into a narrow ravine. Metal screeched as both wings scraped along the rocks; after a minute, the _Hawk_ ground to a stop.

"Frakk." Atton shut down the engines and toggled the intercom. "I don't think we're down, just wedged between the rocks. Everyone keep still for now; don't risk shifting the ship until I can make sure we won't drop."

"We won't," said Bao-Dur. "Repulsorlifts are still functioning. If the ship were loose, we could hover, but we seem to be stuck tight."

"We were at low engine power." Meetra sat back and crossed her arms. "Could we break free at full throttle?"

Atton shook his head. "Bad idea. We probably could, but then we'd shoot forward-into a tight canyon in the fog. We'd crash for keeps."

Meetra took a deep breath and let it whistle out through her teeth. "We'll have to come up with something. For now, let's assess the situation."

The rest of the crew was already trickling into the hold; Visas came in rubbing her temples with one hand and feeling her way with the other. "This place… it hurts. The Force is so wounded, chaotic. It is difficult to see."

"I can imagine it would be, like staring into a strobe light." Mical leaned into the medical bay and began preparing a spray injector. "I can give you something for the pain, Visas, but there's nothing I can do about your senses. You'd better stay aboard ship. The terrain out there is just too dangerous if your vision is impaired."

"We're _all_ staying aboard ship." Mira brought up some charts on the holodisplay. "The atmosphere is highly toxic from all those volcanic vents, and Visquis took the space suit from me. Unless you can teach us that breath-holding trick in a few minutes, Master, we're trapped in this ship. It's up to you, and the droids."

Bao-Dur stepped in from the turret access. "Both wingtip turrets are gone, and we're stuck fast. We're too high to use the rescue hoist, but you could walk across the top of the ship and onto the mountain on the left side."

Meetra nodded grimly. "All right. I will go find Kreia and stop her, but that won't be enough. As long as this place exists, it could be used against the Jedi, and the Republic. Malachor must be destroyed." She looked to Bao-Dur. "I mean to use the mass shadow generator again."

The Zabrak scratched one of his horns. "It could work… the generator would need to be reprogrammed to tear the planet to pieces. We would also need power; that means finding ships which are still at least partially intact, and have operational reactors. Depending on what state they're in, we'd need between three and seven ships for a full-power pulse. The droids should be able to handle that."

"Good. Then your job is finding a way to free the ship. Once the generator is ready to fire, activate it and take off immediately." Everyone started talking at once; Meetra held her hands up for quiet. She made eye contact with each of her Padawans in turn. "I care deeply for all of you, and I know you feel the same for me. I _will_ try to escape, but we cannot afford to delay. Kreia has likely anticipated that I would try to destroy Malachor. If so, she will move to stop you. You all remember our last duel during your training; I can defeat all six of you, and Kreia is just as powerful. We cannot risk leaving this threat to the Republic intact." She held Mical's gaze. "We always put the galaxy before our own needs, no matter the price. And if you do not see me again, remember that I am with you in the Force, always."

* * *

Meetra climbed out of the dorsal hatch next to the _Hawk_ 's turret, followed by the droids. She took a look around. Off to the right, the ship was up against a sheer cliff. On the left, there was an opening in the rock face, with a gully leading down. It was the only available path, so Meetra followed it. After a hundred meters or so, the paths split. Several other fissures led out across the mountain, while one continued down toward the depths of the planet.

T3 raised his sensor antenna, made two sweeps, and tooted. "Translation: there are several energy signatures in the area large enough to be operational reactors," HK said. "We will have to split up and travel to each one to be sure. I estimate it will take two to four hours to locate enough ships and prepare the generator for firing. Caution: There are life forms in the area, master. There is too much interference for any specifics, but in this place, they are likely to be hostile."

Meetra nodded and pointed the droids to their pathways. They separated, HK and T3 taking other paths to the east while G0-T0 and Bao-Dur's remote hovered up and out over the twisted landscape. Meetra took the ravine on, deeper into the shadowy canyons.

She walked slowly, conserving her energy. Meetra didn't feel any urge to breathe yet, but she didn't know how far she had to go. The path curved slightly, then opened out into a clearing, full of spires and rock arches. Meetra thought she saw movement and drew her sabers. She had seen movement; a large animal stepped into view. It was green, scaly, and stood over two meters tall on its hind legs. Its hands were clawed and its crocodile-like mouth was full of sharp teeth. It let out a growl and moved in slowly. Meetra didn't wait for an attack, she threw her shoto. The beast dodged and shrieked at her. The sonic shockwave left Meetra disoriented and the creature ran in to finish her. Meetra slashed in a wide arc, taking off an arm. She shook her head to clear it and struck again, this time cutting the beast cleanly in half. As Meetra retrieved her shoto, she heard the snarling of several more creatures. She set her feet and braced herself. Three more beasts attacked; Meetra spun, dodged, and cut them down one by one. She took a quick look around, then doused her sabers and moved ahead.

Meetra spent the next hour working her way through the difficult terrain, fighting her way past the beasts and avoiding the hot gases spewing from vents, moving ever closer to Kreia. The trail wound downward, into the depths of the planet. She emerged onto a natural bridge spanning a deep fissure. Meetra glanced up and to her right and spotted the _Ebon Hawk_ wedged high above her. _With the way these passageways twist, I thought I was a lot further away. I might actually be able to make it back._ She crossed the chasm and jumped at an explosion behind her. The shattered bridge fell into the darkness. _Or not. Kreia wants to make sure I'm cut off from the others._ Meetra continued on, the path widening slightly. She rounded a corner and slowed; there was an open gate in front of her. It was huge, at least five meters high. Beyond was a large open area of flat ground, and another gate on the far side.

It was clearly a trap, or a test, but it was also clear that the way to Kreia was through the gate. There was no point in wavering. Meetra walked in, sabers at the ready. Five meters inside, and the gate behind her closed. _Of course._ The ground shook, and a rancor-sized version of the reptilian creatures stomped through the far gate, which slammed shut. Meetra threw both her sabers. The big beast avoided the long saber, but Meetra's shoto hit it in the shoulder-and didn't go through. The blue blade left a respectable cut, but not the devastating injury expected from a lightsaber. The beast snarled and charged in, swinging its huge arms. It was incredibly fast for an animal its size; Meetra barely dodged the swing, and the creature's claws left furrows in the stony ground. Meetra rolled and sliced the beast's side. It roared and caught her with a backhand, knocking Meetra off her feet. As she stood, the creature screeched at her. This shockwave was far more powerful, blasting stone chips into the air. Meetra took the full blast; the world began to spin and her ears were ringing. She jumped to the side, avoiding another swipe from the beast. She ran, angling for the side of the arena. The creature whirled and slashed again. Meetra leaped, the deadly claws passing beneath her. She kicked off the wall and flipped, throwing her shoto at the monster's face. It blocked, but Meetra landed on its shoulder. She took a two-handed grip and swung at the beast's throat. Meetra chopped again and again until the massive head fell to the ground.

The gates opened with a rumble; Meetra walked on. The terrain here was more open, more ground between the towering peaks on each side. It appeared that this was an intact section of the former surface of the planet, a rocky valley formed by flowing water, not the crushing force of the mass shadow generator. She followed the dry riverbed on, around two more curves… and then she saw it. The valley came to an end at the base of a mountain; a building was carved into the living rock. The doorway was a dramatic, curved façade in grey and silver, the door itself washed with blood-red light. A small plaza sloped down from the door, then a footbridge arched over a deep fissure. Meetra had no doubt this was her destination. As she crossed the bridge, Sith assassins appeared in the plaza. First two, then two more, until there were ten black-clad figures forming an aisle leading up to the door. As Meetra stepped off the bridge, they knelt and the door opened. Meetra ran through a calming exercise and walked inside. The Sith followed, and the door shut behind them.

* * *

The topside airlock cycled, and Meetra left the ship. The sound of footsteps moved across the ceiling as she and the droids crossed to the ravine and headed into the canyons. Atton turned to the others. "Well, I assume we're all agreed not to obey that last order?"

"Of course," said Mical. "We must at least _try_ to save Master Meetra. She'd do the same for any of us."

Brianna folded her arms. "Before we can help her, we must first help ourselves. How can we free the ship, with the toxic atmosphere outside? And once that is done, how will we find Master Meetra, with the sensors crippled?"

"Oh, I'll take care of it." Mira smiled smugly and tapped a finger against her nose. "Filter implants, remember? I _can_ breathe out there, I'm a demolitions expert, and I'm also the best tracker I know. I'll head outside and take a look at the rock face. Once that's done, Atton and Bao-Dur will help me fabricate shaped charges to blast the walls. Master Meetra will leave a trail that I can follow. Once I locate her, I'll call you in to pick us up."

"Clever, Mira." Bao-Dur chuckled, then grew serious. "There is one more problem to deal with. As the generator powers up for another pulse, the existing gravitational distortions are going to get worse. The planet is already unstable."

Brianna bit her lip. "So, it may become impossible to reach you, Mira, even if you can find Master Meetra."

Mira nodded grimly. "I know what I'm getting into. I trust the rest of you to make the right choice; either way, I will understand."

Mira poked her head out of the upper hatch. She took one shallow breath, just to make sure, then climbed out. The freighter was fairly level, so she could walk around without trouble. She headed to the port wing and probed the rock face with her _kal_ , to estimate the hardness of the stone. It would shatter fairly easily, and the explosion would not hurt the ship if done right. Mira took her time to determine the number and type of charges she'd need. Once she was satisfied, she headed back inside with a datapad full of calculations. Atton and Bao-Dur were already at the workbench with her stock of explosives. The charges were fairly quick to assemble and fuse, and so Mira was back outside less than half an hour later. She planted the charges, then got well clear of the cliff side.

In the cockpit, Atton and Bao-Dur prepared the ship for takeoff. The comm chimed. "Charges are in place, _Hawk_. I'll detonate when you give the word."

Atton nodded to Bao-Dur and started the repulsorlifts. "Stand by, Mira." Bao-Dur examined the systems panel, then flashed a thumbs-up. "Ready here. Give us a countdown."

Mira tapped a command into her wrist computer. "Charges are armed. Firing on my 'mark.' Three, two, one, _mark_."

The charges weren't particularly powerful; the blast sounded like a couple of grenades going off. But the force of the explosion was directed into the rock, which fractured. The weight of the ship was enough to cause the weakened cliff to crumble, and the _Hawk_ fell free. The freighter dropped twenty meters or so, then slowed to a stop and rose up until the cockpit was level with Mira.

"Alright, we're free and flying," said Atton. "I'm going to find a piece of open sky and circle. Get tracking, and we'll be listening in on comm for- _watch out!_ "

The chin gun dropped and opened fire. Mira whirled to see two large reptiles getting riddled with blaster bolts. They had come out of the canyon behind her, and she hadn't heard them over the sound of the ship's repulsorlifts. She raised her saber as several more of the creatures came boiling out of the rocks. Mira delivered a perfect strike to the first creature's neck and was caught by surprise when the saber didn't go clean through. The dying beast lunged for Mira and she spun aside; the beast went over the cliff. Mira fired two darts into the next creature; the chin gun got three more. A gust of wind shook the _Hawk_ and the freighter climbed away, the chin gun retracting into the fuselage. Mira killed the last of the reptiles, then took a moment to reload.

The comm chirped; Atton sounded embarrassed. "Sorry, Mira. There's too much turbulence down near the ground. We can't stay low enough to cover you."

"It's all right, Atton, I can handle myself," Mira replied. "Just be ready when I find Master Meetra." She squared her shoulders and began walking down off the mountain.

Tracking a human across stony ground is difficult, but Mira was up to the task. There were a series of disturbances in the dust and gravel. Meetra and HK both left walking-humanoid signs, but Meetra had a lighter tread, and occasionally lost a thread or two from her cloak. Mira came to an open area full of weathered, twisted stone. There were several of the reptilian beasts, clearly killed by lightsaber. Mira smiled-the track would be easier than she'd expected. She headed deeper into the canyons, using her lightsaber to cut trail markers. The trail curved to the right, and Mira found her path blocked by a massive chasm. There had been a bridge, but it had been blown. Mira reached into her pouch and brought out a rocket grapnel. She fired the grapnel into the rock on the far side of the chasm. Mira clipped the monofilament line to her belt and swung across. She grinned to herself and moved on.

The path opened out; Mira came to a large, open gate. There was another dead beast, this one four times the size of the others. Mira rolled her eyes. "Yet another slice of galactic paradise. Why can't we ever go to Alderaan or Ithor or someplace without metal, jagged rocks, or packs of bloodthirsty beasts?"

A deep, furious growl echoed off the rocks; a tall, dark figure stepped into view. Mira's eyes widened. "Hanharr? Oh, you have to be _kidding_ me!"

The big Wookiee flashed an insane smile. "The grey-maned female healed me, and bound me to her. She has promised me an end to my debt when I kill you." Hanharr drew a pair of vibroswords. They were an even meter long and jet-black except for the silvery edge. The swords seemed to be smoking, but it was actually water vapor coming off the supercooled blades. They were the deadliest edged weapons ever invented: Sith Tremor Swords. The great gates slammed shut and Hanharr laughed. "You have run a long way, female, but still I have found you, and here, on this graveyard planet, you have nowhere left to run. My mistress has plans for the Jedi. Once again, if you wish to help her, you must go through _me_."

Mira hit Hanharr with the most powerful push she could produce; he took a single step backwards. The Wookiee roared and charged. Mira ducked his first slash and parried the second. She feinted to the side, then struck at Hanharr's midsection. He stepped back, but Mira managed a cut across the torso. Hanharr bellowed and swung overhand with both swords. Mira dove out of the way, then rolled and brought up her saber.

Hanharr circled, brandishing his weapons. "You have always been prey, Mira, always afraid… and you always will be. Tiny girl, you call yourself a hunter?"

He stepped in with a flat slash. Mira stopped it cold; her green eyes bored into his red. "I call myself a Jedi."

They clashed, Hanharr attacking with increasingly wild, violent swings and Mira fending him off skillfully. She slid her saber blade past his guard and wounded him in the shoulder. Hanharr kicked Mira in the stomach, knocking her back several meters. Before he could close in, Mira emptied her launcher's magazine and riddled Hanharr with darts. He had to be bleeding internally, but the big Wookiee just wouldn't go down. Hanharr went absolutely berserk, stepping in close and hammering downward with both blades as he had in Visquis' arena. "You weak, fearful human! You will break, Mira, you will die, and I will be free of you!"

Mira kept her guard up through the barrage of blows, letting her knees absorb the impact. "This blade won't break, Hanharr-and neither will I."

She locked blades and pushed; impossibly, Hanharr staggered. Mira went on the offensive, driving him back. He leaped for another powerful slash and she raised a whirlwind beneath him. Hanharr was launched several meters into the air. Mira reached out with the Force pulled him straight down, smashing him into the unyielding stone at speed. He did not get up; she approached cautiously, saber at the ready.

"Kill me." Hanharr's voice wasn't a roar, more like the echo of one. "Kill me, or I swear I will hunt you until the day you die."

Mira doused her saber, knelt, and opened her medpac. Hanharr wailed. "No! I cannot be in your debt twice."

"I won't kill you. Not like this." Mira had a kolto wrap in her hand, trying to find where Hanharr was hurt. His fur was matted, soaked with blood, concealing the wounds.

"Why are you so cruel?" Hanharr slammed his fist on the ground. "I begged you. I cried out for mercy, and instead of letting me die, you made me a slave."

Mira shook her head. "I couldn't just leave you to die down there in the tunnels."

The Wookiee sighed. "Better than the chains you put on me. You spared my life, but wounded my soul. As long as I live, that wound will never heal, and the pain will never end."

Mira's eyes widened, then she nodded slowly. "Hanharr, I am sorry. If I had understood, I would never have made you suffer." She ignited her saber. "Be at peace." She struck, neatly severing Hanharr's head from his body. She searched the body, and found a control for the gates. They opened, and Mira walked on.

* * *

 **A/N: I had to trap most of the crew aboard the ship. Even if Meetra told them to stay, they're too loyal; they'd go charging after her if they could. I didn't want to use the scene from the Restored Content mod where the students try to take on Kreia and Sion themselves; that way lies sad endings and screw that. So I used the volcanic gas, leaving a way for Mira to follow, and have her moment in the rematch with Hanharr.**


	48. Malachor, part two

**Disclaimer: KotOR isn't mine. These characters aren't mine. The awesome story isn't mine. Bums me out.**

* * *

The doors closed, and Meetra heard air rushing into the room. She took a cautious sniff, then breathed deeply and gratefully while taking a look around. The entry hall was clearly Sith architecture: sleek and ominous in shades of silver, black, and red. Meetra took two steps into the room and the first assassin stepped into view. The black-clad Sith emerged from behind columns, out of alcoves, and through doors in the far wall. Meetra was surrounded. She set her feet. _A gauntlet, then. Let's get started._

She didn't wait to be attacked. Meetra killed the first Sith before he even knew she had moved. The second managed to parry one strike before Meetra finished her. The remaining assassins ran in, trying to attack from behind. Meetra kept moving, chaining together blocks and counters. In two minutes, ten Sith were dead. Meetra chose a door, stepped through, and was immediately under fire. Six turrets and four red-armored Sith elite troopers were blazing away. Meetra used her full speed to block the fire one-handed, while simultaneously throwing her shoto to destroy the turrets. With them down, she tore into the Sith. The next room was larger; at least three dozen troopers stood waiting with blades. Meetra waded into the fight, and was soon surrounded. She blasted the Sith into the walls with a wave, then cleaned up the survivors. Next came a group of Dark Jedi, several apprentices and a Master. They fought like they expected Meetra to be exhausted; she wasn't, and could still counterattack quickly enough to take them by surprise. The Master fell, and the room was empty.

Meetra felt the weariness creeping in. She took a breath or two to steady herself. _There isn't time to be tired yet,_ she thought. _I have to get through to Kreia. I can rest when this is done… or I'll rest_ forever _._

The next room was smaller, and another pair of Dark Jedi were waiting for her, a man and a woman. They were wearing armored robes Meetra had only seen in holos in the Jedi archives: the garb of Sith Marauders, elite lightsaber duelists. The woman raised a double-blade, while the man held a lightsaber pike: a 2-meter phrik alloy staff tipped with a shoto blade. The woman stepped in front of her partner, settling into a Form III stance. Meetra was surprised to see the purely defensive technique from a Sith, but she knew how to break it. She started with a flurry of quick, light strikes. The woman blocked every one, fending Meetra off easily. The attack came by surprise; the man thrust under the woman's left arm, nearly skewering Meetra. She dodged it and countered, but the woman blocked. The pike shot forward again, over the woman's shoulder, angling for Meetra's throat. She parried, but couldn't get a counter in past the woman's Soresu defense. She blocked another thrust and almost lost an arm when the woman slashed at her unguarded shoulder.

The marauders were as well coordinated as Atton and Brianna, and their style was incredibly difficult to break. The pikeman stayed completely behind the woman, so he could focus entirely on offense while she protected them both. More than that, the woman blocked Meetra's view. Meetra had only a fraction of a second to react to the pike attacks. She found herself retreating, spending more and more time on the defensive. Meetra tried throwing her shoto and curving it around behind the Sith. The man deflected the flying blade with a flick of his pike, then went for Meetra's offhand side. Meetra defended herself, but it had been a feint. The man's real attack came in low; he thrust the pike between the woman's legs, aiming for Meetra's knee. Meetra saw he chance and took it. She jumped, then reached down and grabbed the pike's haft with her empty left hand. She pulled upward and to the side, tangling the woman's plant leg. Meetra followed up with a shoulder shove, and the woman went sprawling to the ground. Meetra held onto the pike and slashed at the man. He had two options, both of them bad: get killed immediately, or lose his weapon. He chose to let go of the pike and backflip away. Meetra smashed the pike into the ground, shattering the saber mechanism. She threw the haft at the woman, who caught it and tossed it to the man. He held the metal pole in a staff grip and spread out wide. Meetra pulled in her shoto and took the offensive at full speed. She had the advantage, and she never gave it back. It was just a matter of waiting for one of the marauders to make a mistake. The man did, and Meetra took his right hand before finishing him with a slash to the chest. The woman attacked in a rage; Meetra maneuvered her into overextending herself, then brought her shoto around and decapitated her.

* * *

The rest of the building was a long, hard grind. Meetra recognized the layout as similar to the Enclave: this had been a place of learning. She passed libraries, training rooms, meditation areas-all filled with troopers, turrets, and Dark Jedi. Meetra battled her way forward, one room, one duel at a time. With every step forward, she felt the tremendous darkness up ahead. Meetra found herself in a great hall, with columns running down either side of the open floor. She slowed to a stop, somehow knowing what she was about to face. The door at the far end opened and Darth Sion strode in.

"You should not have come to Malachor," he grated. "She will break you, your mind, your body… you will be lost." He pointed to the door behind her. "Return to the surface, let the planet claim you, as it claimed the other Jedi. There is no reason for you to suffer at her hands."

"Of course there is." Meetra set her jaw. "Kreia, Darth Traya, whoever she is, she plans to wreak great destruction. I mean to stop her. And if you stand in my way, then I will strike you down."

Sion's face twisted. "I am ready for you, exile. I have waited years to see the last of the Jedi fall before me, to join the rest that lie buried within this planet's core."

"Then you'll be waiting a while longer." Meetra smiled. "I am not the last of the Jedi. Even if you kill me, the Order will live on."

Sion hissed angrily and attacked. Meetra blocked and circled. The scarred Sith was fast and strong, but not skilled. His slashes were brute-force hammerblows, not the precise strikes Meetra used. The wild swings left him open frequently; Meetra took the first good opportunity and cut off Sion's right leg. He hit the floor still swinging his lightsaber. Meetra followed up with a stab, but Sion blew her backwards. He reached down and grabbed the severed limb, then put it back in place. The wound sealed and Sion stood up.

"You cannot hurt me, let alone kill me," he said. "The power of the dark side holds me together, sustains me no matter what wounds I suffer, no matter what pain I feel."

 _So that's it._ Meetra nodded to herself. _This duel will go on as long as he has the will to fight… so to win, I break his will._ "Then why would you serve her? If she succeeds, you will be destroyed."

Sion shook his head. "If she succeeds, she would be the _Sith'ari_ of legend, who will destroy all, and raise a new Sith Empire from the dead. But she will not succeed. What she wishes cannot be done, but she is my Master. I serve her until the day I am stronger, and then she will fall." He glared at Meetra. "But she would turn me aside, and have you take my place. When I strike you down, I will prove that you are not the one she seeks, and she shall accept me again as her one true apprentice!"

They clashed again. Sion's technique might be crude, but if his enemy couldn't wound him, poor form didn't matter much. Meetra doused her shoto and used two hands to block. It took her full strength to absorb his blows. She felt the energy of the murdered Masters supporting her, keeping the fatigue at bay; it made her sick to think Kreia had planned this, 'equipped' her for this duel. She knocked Sion's saber upwards, then lopped both his arms off and kicked him in the face. Sion reeled backwards; the damage was worse than before and it took longer for him to pull himself together. Meetra caught her breath as his limbs reattached.

"She will never accept you again," Meetra said harshly. "You rely on the Force, cannot survive without it, and she hates the Force. Kreia respects me because I gave up the Force. She despises you because you are a slave to it."

"One cannot abandon the Force, any more than one can abandon one's will. There is no life without the Force. It is a blade; without it, one is defenseless." The scarred Sith was whole again; he raised his saber warningly. "As long as the dark places of this world flow through the cracks in my flesh, I cannot be killed."

Meetra didn't wait for the attack. She leapt at Sion and took the offensive, battering his guard. She feinted, then stabbed him in the belly and ripped upward. Sion was cut almost completely in half; he fell on his back and began to regenerate again. Meetra had almost three minutes' rest this time before he got back up.

Sion raised his hands to press the halves of his head back together. "I can die a hundred times, exile, and still I will rise again, as strong as before."

Meetra angled her sabers. "And each time you rise, I will strike you down."

Something changed in Sion's face. He was fully healed, but he hesitated. "Surrender now, return to the surface of Malachor… do not force me to destroy you."

Meetra thought she'd found another chink in Sion's mental armor. "Why don't you want to destroy me? Why would you allow me to escape?"

Sion paced, swinging his saber aimlessly and ranting. "I hate you! I hate you because you crawl within my head as she does, but your presence holds no thoughts, no teachings, you are just there, unspoken. I hate you because you are beautiful to me. And in that weakness lies death." He rounded on her, one brown eye boring into two blue. "I will not allow you to make me weak, to erode my will."

Meetra shook her head sadly. "You felt a connection to me. I wish you had allowed yourself to explore the feeling further. You might have found your way out of the dark. To feel, to care for another, is not weakness; even Kreia knows this. You are wounded, lacking the bonds you need to recover, or the strength to let go. And as long as you live, those wounds will never heal, and the pain will never end."

He charged again, but he was wavering. Meetra exploded into action. She flickered all around Sion, her blades moving in a blur as she struck repeatedly. Sion was unable to block even half of her slashes. Meetra finished up with a massive push, shattering Sion and blasting the pieces of him across the room. He was reduced to an awful mound of flesh-but even that began to gather and reconnect. At first, it was just a pile of pieces. The pile resolved into the shape of a man on his hands and knees.

Sion did not get up. "Why? Why did she choose you? What makes you able to defeat me, defeat me here?"

"My strength comes from my bonds with those I care about," Meetra said quietly. "I never lost that, even when I was faced with the destruction at Malachor."

"It is not possible to walk away from such things unscarred," Sion said. "To keep living when the universe dies around you."

Meetra smiled faintly. "Of course it's impossible to endure what I have without scars. But if you can make peace with what you've gone through, you can heal, even be stronger for every wound you carry. But there is no peace to be found in the dark side."

Sion struggled to his feet. "The dark side fills me. It is what I am. The Force is my life."

"What kind of life have you lived with the Force flowing through you?" asked Meetra, searching his face. "No peace, no rest. Has it been worth living?"

"It… it has not," Sion admitted. "No matter how many I killed, there was no end to the pain." He met Meetra's eyes one last time. "Kreia, she will try to break you, to teach you how far someone can fall. But her weakness is you, as you were mine. She has done all of this, all of it, for you." His scars were widening, growing deeper. "I am glad to leave this place, at last."

Darth Sion fell backward, body crumbling. He barely made a sound when he hit the floor, scattering into black and grey dust. Meetra took a moment to gather herself, then headed for the door. Kreia was waiting just ahead.

* * *

Bao-Dur's remote floated through a maze of rock and wreckage. The tiny droid had scanned three crashed starships and not found one with enough power. The fourth was just up ahead, a _Praetorian_ -class frigate which had been forced to land on the imploding planet. The 'hammerhead' bridge section had snapped off and tumbled down a hillside, but the engine section was largely intact. The remote hovered towards the ship, looking for a way in. There was a sudden metallic clatter as several pieces of debris shifted. The remote froze and scanned the area. He zipped out of the way as a large creature leapt out from behind a section of hull plating and clawed at him. The remote activated his cutting laser, slashing the beam diagonally and leaving the beast critically injured. Two more creatures ran in; the remote flew through a small gap in the wreckage, leaving the beasts to roar in frustration. The remote continued along the hull until he reached the stern. There was a large hull breach in the engine room; he floated inside.

The frigate still had power; the reactor was intact, but shut down. By all appearances, some of the crew had survived to abandon ship. There were no bodies; the local wildlife had swept the ship clean but for a few fragments of bone. The engineering control console was in the center of the compartment, against the forward bulkhead. In a minute or two, he had configured the reactor to send power to the mass shadow generator. The other droids had already found ships of their own; the generator began powering up and would be ready to fire shortly. The remote transmitted this information to the others and to the _Ebon Hawk_.

Bao-Dur got on comm, appearing on the console screen. "Well done. I have one last instruction for you. You must remain behind and ensure the sequence fires properly once Master Meetra gives the command. If we do not contact you again, fire the generator in six hours." He smiled gently. "You have done all I asked… all you were built for. And for that, I thank you."

The comm cut out. The remote attempted to set the six-hour timer, but could not send information through his data probe. He ran a self-diagnostic, but nothing seemed to be wrong. The remote buzzed in confusion and attempted to disconnect and try another console. He was frozen in place.

"Touching." G0-T0 decloaked next to the remote. "The probability of the Iridonian using you for a fail-safe was high; I see the probabilities have played out. Of course, I took precautions to negate such a plan. Your inability to move is due to my override, and I have jammed your transmitter as well. If the exile issues the command, only I will be here to receive it." He extended his blaster array and covered the smaller droid. "You realize I cannot permit you, or the exile, to activate the mass shadow generator. The relics and the Sith strength here on Malachor must not be compromised. Their presence is needed to stabilize the galaxy. Without them, the galaxy would be reduced to anarchy within years. And if there is anything I can't stand, it's an untidy galaxy."

"Correction: One could rust listening to your speeches, fat one." HK-47 stood just outside the hole in the hull, rifle up and aimed. "Perhaps it is the large, unwieldy vocabulator within your moon-sized frame that prevents your calculations from taking us into account." T3 rolled out from behind the larger droid and raised an antenna. "Statement: my counterpart here has just negated your override. Perhaps you should re-calculate your probability of success."

"On the contrary, assassin, I anticipated your interference." G0-T0's voice had much less inflection then HK's, but he sounded smug nevertheless. "I arranged for some friends to meet me here."

There was movement in the wreckage. At first, the figures were invisible in the shadows, but for glowing yellow eyes. Then, a flash of lightning shone off of silvery durasteel armor. A dozen HK-50s strode out of the night, carrying disruptor rifles and light repeating blasters. "Statement: Greetings, HK-47. We have been looking forward to this for some time."

"Rejoinder: As have I," HK replied. "I simply cannot stand the thought of you cheap knockoffs running around loose, tarnishing my reputation. You actually served the meatbags as protocol droids! The indignity of it!"

The 50s spoke in turn, as usual. "Insult: Your reputation cannot be as tarnished as your chassis, rust-bucket. Your design is nearly perfect-we are built to your specifications, after all-but you are old. Tactical analysis: Your plating is weathered, your frame has seen more than ten years of heavy use with minimal maintenance. Your shields' circuitry is beyond its design life, and even if it wasn't, eight of us are carrying disruptors. Boasting: You don't remember it-because we fried your memory cluster-but the last time you crossed our path, we left you for scrap. If it wasn't for that meddling astromech, you would have been out of commission permanently. Threat: This time, we will make sure. Once you are thoroughly wrecked, we will toss the pieces into the nearest volcanic vent and let the planet's core melt you down."

"The probability of your success is zero," said G0-T0. "Were you organics, I would offer you the chance to surrender without a fight-my assassins are valuable commodities. But you are droids, and you will follow your programming to the end. I can respect that."

HK-47 ran through a diagnostic, and raised his shields; next to him, T3 was doing the same. "Statement: I will not waste time trying to convince you that you have miscalculated, fat one. Instead, we will prove it to you."

Everyone opened fire at once. G0-T0 retreated into the frigate; T3 chased him in. HK took out one of the 50s with his first shot, then threw himself behind a large chunk of the frigate's hull as the other assassins returned fire. He popped his head out for a fraction of a second, long enough to locate a few of the shooters. He broke cover and fired three times. The first shot missed high as the silver HK ducked back behind a rocky pillar. The second dart shattered the stone; the third hit the 50 in the head. It fell, firing its disruptor straight up. The repeaters opened up again; HK hunkered down.

An assassin droid can easily assess their opponent's options, and the probable outcomes of any action. But when the opponent is _also_ a droid, the situation becomes complex. Combat between droids is a little like dejarik, or the Echani forms: it's all about strategizing many moves ahead. HK-47 _was_ older, but the difference between his hardware and that of the 50s was statistically insignificant, especially since he'd been repaired with HK-50 parts. The 50s had numbers, but that was offset by the ripper rifle HK carried-he could penetrate much of the available cover, while they could not. HK was safe as long as he remained behind cover, but if he didn't keep the 50s engaged, they'd flank him. He had to return fire, but he didn't dare shoot from the same spot again; the 50s with rifles would pick him off. He needed to move and set up in a new location. HK looked over the terrain. There were two alternate fighting positions close by, one good and one adequate. Further away were three more, all well-placed to threaten one or two of the 50s, but the longer distance conferred an additional risk. The 50s could easily destroy him before he reached the new location… if they could predict the choice he would make.

HK-47 and his silver 'brothers' had the same programming, so the 50s could look to their own tactical analysis to determine what HK's decision would be. HK, knowing this, would make a different choice-but of course, the 50s knew that. And this was where HK's age was an advantage. Droids became more inventive and intelligent the longer they went without a memory wipe. And HK's memory _never_ wiped, it was merely locked from time to time. He could take the guessing game further with subroutines the 50s hadn't yet developed due to their shorter operational life. And the 50s knew _that_ , too.

HK had five options for new cover, five possible paths. When he came out, the 50s could concentrate fire on two of them. The odds weren't great that they'd hit him, unless they could limit his options… which, of course, is what they tried to do. The 50s threw ion mines to box him in, then tossed grenades to flush him out. HK came out shooting, running _toward_ the mines. Right on cue, the little remote zipped out ahead of him, burning the mines' motion sensors with his cutting laser. HK fired on the run, dropping another 50. He reached the boulder and dropped behind it. The remote was making a beeline for safety when G0-T0 decloaked right in front of him. Before he could fire, T3 struck G0-T0 with his shock arm. G0-T0 and one of the repeaters opened up on T3; the astromech rolled backwards as his shields drained. G0-T0 moved to finish him off while the 50s kept HK pinned.

The remote darted out from behind HK, staying low to the ground. He used his tractor beam to pick up and throw a mine, then detonated it with his laser. Both G0-T0 and the remote were caught in the blast and crashed to the ground. T3 rolled out, heading for G0-T0 before he could recover. Instantly, all the remaining 50s shifted fire to protect their master. HK leaned out, sweeping his rifle barrel along the most efficient path from one head to the next. He stilled the weapon on each target for the fraction of a second it took to pull the trigger, then moved on. The rifle made a wonderful, greased-metal sound as the bolt cycled, ramming new darts into the chamber. It only took six seconds. When the last of the 50s fell, HK and T3 headed for G0-T0.

"This cannot be." The black droid had partially recovered from the ion cascade, but was still immobile. "I am the finest predictive machine in the galaxy. I have cycled the calculations repeatedly. This outcome is flatly impossible."

"Reply: You also predicted that the Republic would collapse seven months ago," HK said. "Statement: We could simply tell you that you missed a variable, both here and in your decision to preserve Malachor, but you would find that answer unsatisfactory. Explanation: What you did not know is that one cannot make accurate probabilistic calculations where the Jedi are concerned. When they are involved, the impossible seems to occur regularly, and always in their favor." T3 chirped something final and dismissive. "Statement: My counterpart is quite correct. You should have had… more faith." Both droids fired several shots from point-blank range.

The little remote buzzed weakly, then wobbled into the air. He flew over to the control console and plugged in. The ship's reactor whined as it went to full power; the remote beeped.

"Statement: We understand," HK said. "Our congratulations on the completion of your programming."

The two droids moved to a nearby mountain peak and called the _Hawk_ for extraction. The freighter hovered in; Mical sealed the garage and dropped the boarding ramp. The pair got inside, raised the ramp, and re-pressurized the garage. The crew was waiting in the comm room.

"Report: The mass shadow generator is powering up," said HK. "It will be ready to fire in approximately twenty minutes."

Bao-Dur nodded and clicked on the comm. "Mira, the generator is charging now. What's your status?"

"I think I know where Master Meetra is," the hunter replied. The signal was heavy with static, but comprehensible. "Do you have my position?"

The Zabrak walked to the systems station, bringing up a sensor readout. "No, I'm sorry. There's too much interference."

Mira was silent a moment. "I'm about fifteen klicks northwest of where I left the ship. There's a building set into a mountain which you should be able to see from the air. I don't know if there's another exit. I'm heading inside; I'll find Master Meetra and alert you."

"Hold tight, Mira," Visas said. "It's going to get rough down there."

"I hear you," Mira replied. "I'm on the move." The comm cut off, and the room was quiet for a moment.

Atton turned northwest; they moved at a dead-slow hover on repulsorlifts and thrusters. The ship rocked as a distortion flared nearby. Out the window, a peak crumbled into the depths. Mical moistened his lips. "It's time for the hard question, everyone. How long do we wait?"

No one spoke for a solid minute. Visas smiled. "The rest of our lives."

One by one, the others nodded. They sat around the comm, waiting for word.

* * *

 **A/N: Another scene I enjoyed writing was the droid bit here. I originally had a bigger droid subplot, but several scenes didn't work. Got to keep the epic shootout, though. Up next... the final duel!**


	49. Malachor, part three

**Disclaimer: BioWare and Lucasarts created KotOR, then Obsidian Entertainment followed up with even more awesome.**

* * *

Meetra stepped through the last door, into a familiar space. It was the shrine Kreia had shown her, in the memory of the day she'd been cast out by the Sith. The shrine was carved into the top of a natural rocky spire, rising in the center of a deep pit. Two rings of sharp stone pillars jutted up out of the ground, making the whole look like a claw reaching up from the bowels of the world. All around the edges of the shrine, the bases of the pillars were lined with the dead: bones, tatters of robes, and old weapons and armor. The toxic green atmosphere swirled above, kept at bay by either a force field or the Force itself. The place was awash in the dark side, even more than the rest of Malachor. A solitary figure in black stood at the center of the shrine. Meetra took a deep, steadying breath and started across the bridge to the spire.

Kreia's voice was strangely gentle. "At last, you have arrived. Is Malachor as you remember?"

Meetra ignored the question. "Kreia, please. It's not too late to turn back. Let me help you."

"I have thought of this moment for a long time." Kreia's head was down, her hood concealing all but the end of her chin. "I wondered if even now, at the end, you would try to save me. I wanted you to say those words. For that, I am grateful." Her head snapped up; her eyes had turned jet-black. "But I do not want your mercy. I want you to break."

Meetra didn't flinch from the Sith Lord's stare. "I will not allow you to threaten the galaxy." A tremor ran through the ground beneath their feet. "The mass shadow generator is already charging. This place will be destroyed."

Kreia shook her head slowly. "More talk of machines and threats. If you would end Malachor, then do it. But it will not be a victory for you. And of course you must be willing to die, to kill us all. And your friends."

"By now, they've taken off in the _Hawk_ ," Meetra said.

"Of course they have not." Kreia smiled cruelly. "They could escape, easily, but they echo you, their Master. They will not abandon you, though it means their death."

Meetra laughed with exasperation. _I should have known better. You wonderful idiots._

Kreia crossed her arms. "You might think to return to your students and flee this place, but you must know I will not allow you to leave. The apprentice must kill the Master-if you do not, I will kill you. If I do not, then all you have achieved will be for nothing."

"That is the Sith way, Kreia, and I am not Sith," Meetra said quietly.

"True enough-you are Jedi," said Kreia. "But as Jedi, you cannot ignore my threat. This will end in battle either way."

Meetra nodded grimly. "I suppose that's true enough."

She lit her sabers and leapt at Kreia, blue blades converging on her throat. Kreia parried both strikes with a single fluid sweep of her curved-handle lightsaber, then hit Meetra in the face with her stump. Meetra staggered back, shaken.

Kreia dropped into the Makashi neutral stance, right shoulder pointing at Meetra and her left arm extended for balance. "You may hold Malachor in your grasp, but I hold the answers to your past and future in mine. Would you destroy us both before learning them? If so, then do it-for you have already failed me."

"I'm not interested in making you proud, Kreia." The ground rumbled again; Meetra took a deep breath, steeling herself for the duel. "You've been manipulating me all along."

"Yes, always," Kreia replied. "From the moment you awoke, I have used you. I have used you so that you might become strong, stronger than I. I used you to keep the Lords of the Sith from condemning the galaxy with their power unchecked. I used you to lure them to Telos, where they could be, at last, fought and killed. I used you to reveal Atris' corruption, so that her teachings could be ended before they began. I used you to gather the Jedi so they could be destroyed. And I used you to make those who wounded me reveal themselves, so they could be killed by the Republic."

Meetra set her jaw. "The other Jedi, the survivors. Did you know this whole time?"

Kreia chuckled. "I am not omniscient. The Council hid them well, I suspect with aid from the Republic-a victory for those without the Force. No, I first felt their presence during the battle on Onderon, and by then, my plans were nearing fruition. They could not have altered the outcome, in any case. Had they tried to interfere, they would have died with the Council-and you would be stronger still."

"More needless slaughter!" Meetra allowed herself a moment of anger. "I had them convinced, all but Vrook, and Kavar and Zez-Kai were about to stop him!"

"That is not why I ended the Council." Kreia shook her head. "Whether they severed you, or allowed you to return to the Order, they would have taken up the mantle they cast aside. And that, I could not allow. They, too, were corrupted. But where Atris was twisted by betrayal and hate-for you and for herself-the Council was tainted by hesitancy and fear. Whether the light or dark rules the galaxy in the years to come, the Council which cast you out had to be destroyed."

Meetra raised her sabers again. "You will answer for what you have done."

She rushed in, slashing; Kreia parried, staying light on her feet. Meetra had expected Kreia to try and keep the fight at a distance, using the Force. Meetra thought that if she closed the range, Kreia would be at a disadvantage in lightsaber combat. She was dead wrong on both counts. Kreia went on the attack with her saber, fighting like a Knight in her prime, despite her age and missing limb. The shrine was shaken by yet another tremor-they were getting stronger, and more frequent. Meetra tried to clear Kreia's blade and strike with her off hand, but the older woman would have none of it. She flicked her saber back and forth, getting between Meetra's sabers and lunging for her torso. Meetra jumped aside and reset her feet. She retreated in the face of a perfect Form II offense. Kreia pursued, harassing Meetra with quick attacks to keep her on the back foot. Meetra tried using the Force to move faster. She got around Kreia's guard, slashing at her weak side. Kreia stuck out her stump and blew Meetra across the stone circle. Meetra bounced off one of the pillars and slid to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, but Kreia was standing still, waiting.

Meetra pointed her saber at the older woman. "Why, Kreia? At the very least, I deserve to know why."

"It is said that the Force has a will, that it has a destiny for us all," Kreia said quietly. "I wield it, but it uses us all, and that is abhorrent to me, because I hate the Force. I hate that it seems to have a will, that it would control us to achieve some measure of balance, when countless lives are lost."

"Don't you dare pretend to care about lives being lost," Meetra spat through clenched teeth. "The wound you mean to create will destroy nearly every life in the galaxy, and I will not let you harm anyone else!"

Kreia smiled, her voice almost fond. "There is the strength which allowed you to give up the Force, and yet live. But you must be stronger still, if you wish to save the galaxy, and those who follow you."

She extended her left arm and threw lightning. Meetra angled both sabers to precisely redirect it. Kreia was fast, but not that fast. The bolt hit her in the right side, burning away part of her robes and leaving a patch of charred flesh. Meetra braced herself… and felt nothing. Kreia put her hand on the wound; a brief healing pulse stopped the bleeding, but she was in pain and her agility was comprised. Meetra charged in, and now Kreia tried to keep her at a distance. Meetra dodged blasts of electricity, dissipated pushes, and bored in. Kreia got her saber up to stop Meetra's initial strike. She flicked her blade at Meetra's face; Meetra ducked it and kicked Kreia in the burn. Kreia grunted in pain and Meetra slashed overhand. Kreia blocked and countered with a cut to Meetra's torso. Meetra locked blades and forced Kreia's arm down, then her shoto flashed out and severed Kreia's right hand. Kreia cried out and staggered backwards.

"It's over, Kreia." Meetra doused her sabers. "Our bond is broken. You have nothing more to teach me, no more manipulations. You are coming with me. I don't know if you can find peace, but you will have the chance."

Kreia screamed furiously. "You will not show me mercy. I will see you break before you do."

She raised her arms, calling on the dark side. Meetra was thrown back by the powerful wave; she managed to catch herself on one of the pillars to keep from going over the side. Kreia reached out with the Force, pulling in the fallen weapons of those who had perished at the heart of Malachor. Lightsabers ignited, dozens of them, scarlet and violet and orange, even a few blue and green. They formed a whirling vortex around Kreia, a barrier of blades keeping Meetra at bay. Kreia gestured, and individual sabers began flying at Meetra like angry hornets. Meetra parried and destroyed two of the hilts; Kreia began hurling lightning from both stumps. The blasts were too numerous for Meetra to deflect them all, so she was forced to run around the shrine, dodging and flipping.

Meetra realized that Kreia was forcing the issue. If Meetra or her students were to survive, they had to escape, and soon. The ground was shaking constantly now, whether from the mass shadow generator or Kreia's telekinetic storm, Meetra had no idea. She tried throwing her shoto, but a spinning double-blade knocked it harmlessly away. The pillars started to crumble, the fragments pulled into the maelstrom, which was growing. Kreia was widening the storm, driving Meetra back, towards the edge of the stone spire. Meetra knew better, but she glanced behind her anyway, hoping the far side of the chasm was close enough for a leap. There was no chance-the span was more than a hundred meters. Meetra looked everywhere for a way out, an alternative to the choice she didn't want to make. There was none-it was Kreia or the six aboard the _Hawk_ , and perhaps, the galaxy. Meetra hesitated, struggling with herself, then took a deep breath and made her decision. She stopped running and set her feet. Kreia blasted two violet bolts straight at her. Meetra deflected one of them with each of her sabers, sending them into the vortex of debris. Two lightsabers exploded, and the blast opened a hole for one brief moment. Meetra dashed through, leading with her long blade in an impossibly-fast lunge.

Kreia barely flinched as Meetra struck home. She glanced down at the blue blade in her chest, then looked up at Meetra and smiled. "It is done. At last, it is done. You are greater than any I have ever trained. By killing me here, you have rewarded me more than you can possibly know."

Meetra doused her sabers and caught Kreia as she collapsed, cradling the old woman against her chest. There was a loud clatter as the sabers and debris fell to the ground. Meetra clamped both hands to the stab wound, trying to heal it. "Hold on, Kreia, just hold on. There's still time-I can still save you."

"Save me?" Kreia chuckled. "You already have. You have become more than I had hoped, all that the galaxy needs you to be. And you have saved those who follow you, as well. But now, you must leave them behind. Where you are destined, you must not take anyone you love. That was Revan's choice, as well. He knew the true war was not against the Republic. It waits for us, beyond the Outer Rim. He has gone to fight it, and you must follow. You must go where Revan did, into the Unknown Regions, where the Sith, the True Sith, wait in the dark for the great war that comes."

"You want me to go after Revan." Meetra shook her head. "Then why not tell me months ago? Was all this some kind of test?"

"All life is a test, exile." Kreia sighed. "But as you mean the question, yes. You have proven yourself strong enough to walk Revan's path. If you had not, the echo I would cast from Malachor would have been a kindness upon the galaxy, compared to the horror beyond the Rim."

"You say I have to leave them behind." Meetra hung her head. "Must I go now, Kreia? Are they ready, can they stand on their own?"

Kreia laughed, truly laughed, for the first time that Meetra had ever heard. "You travel with them for so long, yet you do not know them still. They were the Lost Jedi, you know. The true Jedi, upon which the future will be built. They simply needed a leader, and a teacher." Kreia took a labored breath. "If it matters to you, at this last moment, I shall look into the future, and tell you of what I see. It is my last gift to you, from one exile… to another."

Meetra smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Kreia. Tell me of my students."

"Mical cannot help but love you," Kreia replied. "It is a pure, ideal love he holds, strengthened by your presence and your actions. He will sit upon the new Council, reluctantly, as all good men do. He will not forget the Jedi who had lost the Force, yet showed him the way to reclaim it."

"What do you see for Visas?" Meetra asked next.

Kreia nodded. "The blinded one shall return to her homeworld, and she shall look upon the surface of that world, and perhaps at last see what she was meant to see. She wished to aid the young on the path to their future, and she shall do so. The seer will find many of the Jedi children in the years to come, as she found you."

"And Mira?" Meetra asked.

"She will stop hunting life, and instead, live it," Kreia said. "She, too, will hear those destined to be Jedi, and seek them out across the galaxy. She will miss you and think of you often, you, who awakened her to what life is. She will live fully, but only for a time. Her death will occur in many years' time on a forgotten planet, saving the lives of others. But it will be her choice, and she will have no regrets."

Meetra felt a sad twisting in her gut, combined with a surge of fierce pride. "What about Brianna?"

"She will leave battle behind her, in no small part due to your influence. She will take Atris' role as historian, and teach others of the Jedi exile who gave up the Force… and became stronger for it." Kreia smiled gently. "First, the Handmaiden wore white to honor Atris, and then to honor her mother. In a year, no more, Brianna will wear white for another reason."

Meetra beamed, then grew thoughtful. "Will they work out? They're so different."

Kreia nodded. "Indeed they are, but that is why they match each other so well-the rough edges and broken pieces fit perfectly. Atton is, as always, the fool. And the Force watches out for ones such as him, I feel. Besides, once Brianna decided she would have him, Atton had very little choice in the matter." Kreia chuckled. "It was much the same with her parents, once her mother met Yusanis."

Meetra had a thought, but kept it to herself. "And finally, Bao-Dur."

"He is the builder, the engineer of the Republic's future." Kreia coughed for a few moments, then got her breath back. "He will bring life to the worlds left barren by war. Under the care of the herds of Ithor, the surface of Telos will bloom again, and its golden fields shall again harbor scientists and thinkers. And complacent and peaceful, it shall forget the time that Saul Karath orbited it and brought fire to its skies."

"What of the Republic, the worlds I visited?" Meetra asked.

"Nar Shaddaa shall persist as it always has, but there will be a heart to the world where there was nothing before," Kreia said. "Your soldiers, those exiled by the Republic, will remain as guardians. Where once the lost and dispossessed were trapped there, now they will struggle and grow. From despair shall come hope."

"And Onderon? Talia and Mandalore?" Meetra asked.

"Queen Talia shall have a long reign; much good will come of it," Kreia said. "Talia will, as she has, rule wisely and well. The Mandalorians shall remain on the Dxun moon, at least for a time. The beasts of Onderon have a rare strength, a will to survive; they shall bring new life to devastated planets across the Rim. Onderon shall remain in the Republic, but it shall remain true to its nature, a wild place at heart, where all things battle to survive. Onderon has not seen its last clash between the light and dark, but always, the Jedi shall stand as the planet's protectors. As to Mandalore, and his people…" Kreia chuckled. "Many battles does that one have left in him, as Revan intended. A general needs an army, as he needs those he trusts. The history of the Mandalorians, past and future, is intertwined with that of the Jedi and Sith. In the centuries to come, the Mandalorians shall sometimes be allies to the Republic, at other times its enemies, but always, they shall be known as warriors."

Meetra moistened her lips. "Tell me of Dantooine, and the Enclave."

Kreia shrugged. "You planted a seed, and it shall grow. The Jedi are not ready to return to Coruscant, not yet. The Enclave shall once again be a shelter and a place of learning. Many names are yet to be written on the walls of Padawan's Cave. The community you saved shall be the foundation upon which Dantooine shall be habitable again. The Republic shall again establish their presence there, and shield it with their forces. Dantooine shall be safe, and its skies free."

Kreia was fighting to keep her head up; her life was ebbing away. Meetra pulled back Kreia's hood and placed her cheek against the old woman's. "Rest now, Kreia. Your time in this place is over." Meetra held Kreia close until she breathed her last. She lowered the body gently to the floor and stood.

Just then, a violent tremor shook the spire. A large section of the shrine fell away. Meetra turned to see that the bridge to the Academy was gone. Above her, the atmosphere suddenly rushed downward. Meetra had time to get one lungful before she had to hold her breath. She knelt at the edge of the shrine, looking for any way across. And then she heard the engines. The _Ebon Hawk_ descended from above, with Mira hanging from the rescue hoist. Meetra half-smiled to herself, ran to the edge, and leaped just as the spire fell away. Mira stretched out her hand, and Meetra caught it. The freighter was climbing before the hoist was even reeled in. The two women scrambled inside and raised the ramp; air whooshed into the garage. The Hawk clawed for altitude, engines whining as they fought free of the planet's gravity well.

Behind them, Malachor V was shrinking, the entire planet compressed by the mass shadow generator. Green lightning wreathed the world, and the debris was spiraling in to the center. The ship began to shake as it came to a complete stop in space, the thrust exactly balancing the pull of gravity. For one terrible moment, they began to slide backwards, and then the pull lessened. The generator had crushed itself, and without the intense gravity of the mass shadows, the remains of the shattered planet began to drift apart. The freighter flew clear, headed for a jump point at the edge of the system.

Meetra watched Malachor dwindle into darkness behind them, and then turned away from the viewport. Mira grinned at her master and waved her towards the main hold. The others were waiting.

"Kreia?" Mical asked.

"She's dead," Meetra replied. "It's done." She angled her head and crossed her arms. "I thought I told you to leave."

"Is this where you lecture us about Jedi obeying their Masters?" Atton was wearing a disgustingly smug grin.

Meetra opened her mouth, closed it, and chuckled. "I can't wait for you all to have Padawans of your own." She smiled. "I hope they act just like you."

"Speaking of our future, Master, I assume our destination is Dantooine?" Atton asked.

"Yes, it is," Meetra agreed. "We need to meet with the Jedi survivors. They have returned to the Enclave, and so will we."

"And then, you're leaving." Visas' voice was shaking. "You're going on alone, without us."

Meetra nodded sadly. "We all have our duty, and our destiny. Yours is to rebuild the Order, and the galaxy. Mine is to follow Revan, once again." She smiled. "But for now, we've all earned some rest."

The crew of the _Ebon_ _Hawk_ slept for most of the flight back to Dantooine. Atton set them down on the plains just outside the Enclave, and they walked inside. Mira took one look at the ship on the Enclave pad and laughed-the _Hawk_ had been berthed next to the silver-and-black picket on Citadel Station. They headed to the Council chamber, pausing outside the closed door.

"I have something to say." Meetra turned to her students. "Over the past year, I have watched you all learn and grow together. I am amazed at how far you've come. But I don't know if the Jedi will permit you to join them. There is no doubt that you have earned it, but they may not be willing to accept my followers. I don't know these Jedi, who they are or what they plan. I hope you can join the Order; you still have much to learn. The galaxy needs the Jedi, and I know you are ready to begin the work of rebuilding. If you can at least find a way to work together with them, excellent. If not…" She smiled. "A little disobedience may be in order." Meetra took a deep breath and turned.

The door slid open.

THE END

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 **A/N: This was awesome fun to write, along with a hell of a lot of work. The fifth and final part of my KotOR saga is a three-chapter epilogue, which should go up by the end of next week. Please, if you enjoyed this fic-or if you didn't-leave a review or PM me and tell me what you thought. I love hearing from readers.**


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